


Bitchcraft

by Scouts_Mockingbird



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, And a lot more gay, Bi Veronica, But a little more Heathers, F/F, F/M, I'll probably need to add tags, It's a lot like The Craft, Lesbian Heather Duke, Period-Typical Homophobia, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scouts_Mockingbird/pseuds/Scouts_Mockingbird
Summary: Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean introduce Heather Duke to an amazing new world of gods, goddesses, and magic, and she embraces the newfound power. When she falls in with a dangerous goddess who promises that no one will ever be able to hurt her again, Heather may have gotten in over her head. Now it's up to her, JD, and Veronica to save Heather's soul, and maybe all of Westerburg.Written for the Heathers Fall Fanfic Challenge





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Scouts_Mockingbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scouts_Mockingbird/pseuds/Scouts_Mockingbird) in the [Heathers_Fanfic_Challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Heathers_Fanfic_Challenge) collection. 



> Thank you all so much for reading this! I wrote it for the Heathers Fall Fanfic Challenge (which I'm running and sign ups are still open if you're interested!) And I'm delving into some new territory here, so I'm eagerly awaiting your thoughts. Thanks again, Enjoy!

Heather Duke was at the end of her rope.

She had been trying for months now to stay calm, to focus on positivity, on the light that could come from her pain, but the time for that was over. As she stormed out of the cafeteria after being the butt of yet another joke, she stopped at her locker and retrieved a few items.

The only candle she had with her was white—hardly useful for the kind of spell she wanted to cast—but she had to make do with what she had. Her locker also contained a much-needed photo of Heather Chandler, who was finally going to pay for her words.

The girl’s bathroom was blissfully empty, something Heather had been counting on; it was unwise to perform spells in front of an audience.

She pulled out her candle and the picture, placing them on the floor while she knelt next to them. She was unfamiliar with this type of spellwork; she’d only ever done things that were positive and centered on improving herself.

But no amount of self-improvement was enough for Heather Chandler, and Heather Duke had had enough.

Placing the picture face up on the ground, Heather glared at Heather’s smiling face. She lit the candle, breathing hard and trying to center herself.

“All the things you’ve done to me, will now be turned and come back on thee,” She whispered. “All the things you’ve done to me, will now be turned and come back to thee.”

The candle flickered, and for a second, Heather swore something was happening. Was this was real magic felt like? Was she actually doing something?

Bolstered, she repeated the spell again. “All the things you’ve done to me, will now be turned and come back to thee.”

Her candle went out with a wisp of smoke as the door swung open.

Heather searched for a plausible explanation for what she was doing as Veronica took in the scene.

“It would work better if you held the picture up to a mirror,” Veronica said.

That hadn’t been what Heather was expecting. “What?”

“This is some kind of revenge thing, right? That’s why you have Heather’s picture? And it sounds like you’re trying to reflect your pain back on her, so you’d want to use the mirror for that.”

“Oh,” Heather said blankly, still too stunned for words. “I… thanks.”

“So how long have you been practicing?” Veronica gestured to the candle and the picture.

Heather shrugged. “A couple months. I found a book about it in the library when school first started, and I just thought ‘why not? Do you think it’s weird?”

Veronica shook her head, smiling. “Not at all. I came here because I sensed that someone was doing magic. I hoped it would be you.”

“You… sensed it?”

“Of course.”

Veronica stated this like it should have been obvious, but Heather was reeling. Veronica could sense magic? How? Did that mean Heather had actually done something magical?

“How?” It was the only one of her many questions that made its way out of her mouth.

“Let me show you.” Veronica held out her hand and Heather took it, grateful for the help up and for a rare opportunity to hold Veronica’s hand.

She led the way out of the bathroom, down the halls, and out the doors. They didn’t stop until they’d reached a small clearing behind the school.

Jason Dean— easily identifiable with his stupid coat—was kneeling on the ground, his back to them. Veronica held up her hand, stopping Heather before she could say anything.

“Orena accept my offering, leave us in peace and hold off your anger.” He dropped a lit cigarette on the ground and a bright light flared up, burning white-hot for a second before it flickered out.

He turned around and jumped. “Veronica, what… what is she doing here?”

“I told you I felt something! It was her, she was casting some kind of vengeance spell against Heather.”

“Through who?” JD asked, tilting his head to study her. Heather, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, tried to look past him to get a better look at the shrine behind him.

Veronica sighed irritably. “No one, but she’s new to this. She hasn’t heard of the secret gods yet.”

“The what?” Heather asked, her attention shifting away from JD’s shrine.

“You brought her here and she doesn’t know about the gods? Veronica, are you insane?”

“Notia called me to her, I’m sure of it. Besides, we have to bring someone in, we need a third.”

“Do you think she’s an Earth?” JD asked.

Heather was so lost they may as well have been speaking another language.

“She could be,” Veronica answered, seemingly unaware of Heather’s confusion. “She wears green, plus isn’t red hair supposed to be an Earth thing?”

“An Earth thing?” Heather said, attempting to get caught up. “What do you mean, am I an Earth?”

JD groaned. “I can’t believe you want to do this.”

“She has power, JD. We can help her use it.”

“Fine, but she’s using your book.”

Beaming, Veronica reached into her purse and pulled out a small leather-bound book. “This is my book of the gods. My patroness gave it to me when I needed it most, and now I’m sharing it with you, until you have your own.”

Heather took the book reverently, flipping it open to a random page and tracing the drawing of a white-clad woman.

Veronica reached out, letting her finger trail after Heather’s. “That’s Yarwis. She’s a goddess of earth and peace.”

Yarwis was beautiful, and Heather didn’t want to turn the page and look away from her. But it was clear, even without reading the text next to her, that Yarwis was not the warrior goddess Heather needed for her revenge.

“You should read more about Yarwis, she’s Notia’s—my patroness—sister.”

Ignoring her, Heather turned the page, letting it fall open to reveal a goddess with skin like gilded stone, her white hair blowing in a breeze as she stood over a battlefield. “Who’s she?”

JD moved to look over her shoulder. “Alida.”

Just the name sent a shiver down Heather’s spine. “She’s…”

“She’s dangerous,” JD said. “Alida is the only god who was ever part human. The story goes that her rage was so strong that it elevated her power until she’d lost her humanity and become a god.”

Heather smiled. That was more like it. “So what’s she the goddess of?”

Suspicion dawned in JD’s eyes, and something deeper and more unnamable came with it. “Revenge.”

That spoke to Heather more than she cared to admit. For all her thoughts about using witchcraft to make herself healthier and happier, she knew that secretly what she’d wanted all along was power.

And she saw power when she looked into Alida’s face. She saw something that spoke to the darkest parts of her soul. In her eyes, Heather saw someone who could bring anyone to their knees, someone who could make Heather Chandler cry. This was what a goddess was supposed to look like.

“She’s not… she’s not like the rest of the secret gods though,” JD was saying. “She’s dangerous.”

He clearly didn’t understand that Heather wanted dangerous, and she wasn’t sure she should admit it to him. She gently brushed her hand over the picture of Alida’s face, before she turned the page.

This page was a little harder to sort out. Both a god and a goddess stood back to back. A snake twined up the woman’s arm to wrap around the man’s neck, binding the two together.

JD was smiling rather affectionately at the drawing. “Voni,” He explained, “In both their forms. I tend to worship Voni’s male aspect, but her female aspect has been helpful to me too.”

“What’s the difference?” Heather asked, still confused.

“There isn’t much of one, really,” JD said, “I differentiate between them because I feel more closely tied to Voni’s male aspect, but to Voni, there is no difference unless he wants there to be one.”

Heather nodded, though it still didn’t make any sense to her. She turned the page again to find a drawing of another goddess, this one facing away from the artist, bathed in shadows. The moon rose above her, illuminating faint lines of her dress and hair.

“That’s my goddess, Notia,” Veronica said.

With her face obscured, Heather could almost imagine that she resembled Veronica. “She’s beautiful.”

“They all are,” Veronica said. She traced her fingers over the outline of the moon. “Notia is the goddess of the night and of secrets. She’s given me many gifts.”

Heather believed that; if anyone at Westerburg had been blessed by an ancient goddess, it was Veronica.

“Her sister is Yarwis, and she’s in lots of stories with Voni. She helps him with his tricks sometimes.”

“Tricks?” Heather asked. This goddess seemed too elegant to be involved with tricks.

“Voni is the god of pranks and sometimes chaos,” JD said. “Forces like Notia and Yarwis balance him out, as they’re tied to the earth and the moon, both things that follow cycles.”

“Order and chaos,” Heather said.

JD nodded. “Maybe you can get this. The secret gods’ stories often involve sets of threes, and supposedly the most powerful worshippers formed groups based on the rule that you had to have one servant of the sun, one of the moon, and one of the earth. If you have all of those, you can do things that no one could ever do alone, because you achieve balance. Veronica and I have been balancing order and chaos ourselves, but a third person, someone earth-aligned could make us unstoppable.”

It was like something from one of Heather’s lunchtime polls: If you had unlimited power, what would you do?

Heather knew she would make sure that no one could ever hurt her again. She would make it so that no one would ever want to.

“Based on that,” Veronica said, smiling and grabbing Heather’s hand, “Yarwis would be the perfect goddess for you. She’s the goddess of earth and she’s very peaceful and positive.”

Their linked hands were so distracting to Heather that it took her far too long to come up with an answer.

JD, naturally, had something to say. “It’s too soon for that. Heather is completely untested, and besides, Yarwis would need to choose her.”

“Yarwis welcomes all,” Veronica argued.

“Are you two dating?” Heather burst out. It wasn’t at all what she’d wanted to say, and it had nothing to do with their argument, but she wanted to know. Their easy arguments and the casual way they moved around each other spoke of a connection, and Heather had seen the way they looked at each other in the cafeteria.

Veronica and JD snorted at the same time, but Veronica answered first. “No. We… we did a spell together the first night, after the Remington party, but it wasn’t more than that.”

JD pressed a hand to his chest, miming hurt. “Am I worth nothing to you? I’m gutted.” He collapsed dramatically onto the fall leaves, and Veronica laughed.

“Oh,” Heather said. “Right.”

“Voni and Notia were the same way, Veronica said. “In some stories they’re lovers, but mostly they just work together to be more powerful.”

“Like all the best friendships,” JD agreed.

“What spell did you do?” Heather asked.

Veronica smiled. “I was pissed at Heather, so we sent her some bad dreams.”

“Clowns,” JD explained.

“Clowns? Why clowns?”

“She just seems like she wouldn’t like them,” JD said sagely, and Heather found herself liking him against her will.

“Since we added a little extra power to the spell,” Veronica said, blushing slightly, “She probably hasn’t been sleeping well for the last week.”

“That would explain her mood,” Heather grumbled. She had thought it had been because of Veronica’s apparent desertion, but lack of sleep would account for Heather’s especially acerbic words lately.

“Well you don’t have to spend time with her anymore,” Veronica said. “You can hang out with us and learn about the gods.”

It was a wonderful offer, but the thought of Heather’s wrath and having her secrets spilled across the school was too much for Heather. “I can’t. I have to go with her to a party tonight.”

“Right,” JD said. “That’s a logical choice. We’re only offering you magic and power and secret knowledge known only to a select few. What’s that when faced with a party?”

Veronica glared at him before turning to Heather. “Ignore him. I understand.”

They split up after that and returned to school. For Heather, it was like waking up from a dream. Had she really spent time in a clearing learning about gods and magic? She almost didn’t believe it, but the rapid beating of her heart, and the strange, tingling in her hands convinced her that it must be real.

Magic was real.

She had hoped that was true, of course. She’d done her spells, willing there to be something real about them, but to see it for sure and to know that she could be truly powerful filled her with excitement she’d never known before.

The rest of the day passed in a giddy blur as she ignored her teachers in favor of going over every word JD and Veronica had said about the secret gods over and over again in her head.

She didn’t even pay attention in English, usually one of her favorite classes. Her copy of Moby Dick sat ignored on her desk as she stared out the window, imagining herself worshipping a goddess. Though she knew JD and Veronica wanted her to choose—or be chosen by—Yarwis, her mind always returned to beautiful, terrifying, enraged Alida.

She was still floating through everything when Heather was driving her home.

“Hello, Heather? Jesus, you’re such a pillowcase.”

Heather’s eyes snapped up to meet Heather’s; she hadn’t heard what Heather had been saying. “What?”

“God, do you ever pay attention?” Heather said. “I _said_ what are you wearing to the party tonight?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Heather stammered, still a little lost in the fantasy her life had become.

Heather huffed, “Just don’t look like a kid, okay? And don’t act like it either. Veronica fucked this up, and I won’t be embarrassed a second time.”

Nodding, Heather tried to control her expression so she wouldn’t look afraid. “Of course, Heather.”

With that, Heather slammed on the brakes in front of Heather’s house, and Heather slid out of the car, grateful to be gone. “Thanks for the ride, Heather.”

Once she was safely in the refuge of her home, Heather closed and locked the door. Her parents weren’t home—they almost never were—so she was on her own for the long process of digging through her closet, searching for something to wear.

The advantage of having parents that were constantly off at one charity event, mission trip, or important fundraiser or another was that no one could tell Heather that her dress was too short, even when it was.

The white dress was the sort of thing Heather Chandler would drool over, but never buy—her conservative stepmother was a stickler about proper hemlines—so Heather felt a jolt of satisfaction as she looked at her reflection.

Though Alida was still on her mind, Heather carefully avoided conjuring the image of any particular goddess when she thought, _Bless me with beauty tonight. Beauty and strength._

When Heather honked to pick her up, Heather dashed downstairs, surprised at her own giddiness. Perhaps it was leftover magic from earlier, but something about tonight felt good. Change was in the air, and it hovered over Heather’s head, ready to make her life better.

The party was in a dirty house that smelled like mold and beer. Heather stood awkwardly next to Heather, trying not to let her dress touch any surface, including the people; she couldn’t trust that they were clean.

“This is Heather,” Heather said, pointing at her. “Heather, this is David and Chuck. They’re cool.” She spoke with a particular tension that Heather wasn’t used to.

It was hilarious to see Heather uncomfortable, and Heather couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Nice to meet you.”

“So,” Heather said, her tense, forced smile never faltering, “Where’s Brad?”

David snorted. “He said he’s had enough of your friends.”

If the comment bothered Heather, Heather couldn’t tell. “She didn’t want to come, so I brought Heather instead. Heather is cool, right, Heather?”

“Yeah, I’m cool,” Heather said, with another silly giggle.

“It’s weird that you’re both named Heather,” Chuck said. “Are you sisters?”

David grimaced. “No, moron, they’re not sisters. Sorry about him, he smoked a bowl before you showed up.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Bastard didn’t even share.”

Both girls laughed politely, though Heather wasn’t really sure why. The whole situation was starting to feel a bit surreal.

After they’d received drinks and were attempting awkward small talk, Heather’s giddiness faded. It was no longer fun to watch Heather try desperately to impress these idiots, who were clearly only barely paying attention to her. To combat her boredom, she drank more and went back over her conversation with Veronica in the clearing.

Veronica, Alida, Yarwis. The names danced in her head, filling her slightly drunk mind with possibilities she’d never allowed herself to consider. If goddesses and magic were real, surely anything was possible? And Veronica wasn’t seeing JD…

Chuck leaned in a little closer. “You know, it’s pretty loud in here. If we went—“

“Don’t bother with her,” Heather said, interrupting him. “I’ve never seen her do anything with anyone. She’s either the biggest prude I know, or she’s,” Heather’s smile turned cruel and she lowered her voice to a biting, audible whisper, “A dyke.”

Heather saw red. “Fuck you, Heather.” Then she grabbed Chuck and pulled him into a harsh, ugly, utterly dissatisfying kiss.

And then she turned and walked out, leaving them stunned.

She tore through the town, streets and houses blurring past her as she fought back tears, only stopping to vomit into a bush when the memory of her lips pressed against that boy’s became to overwhelming to bear. She tripped over her heels, skinning her knees and palms and streaking dirt and probably blood over her white dress.

It wasn’t until she’d arrived in Veronica’s front yard that she even realized where she was going.

Thankfully, the ladder that Veronica sometimes kept by her window so she could escape for a smoke was propped up, ready for her use, and Heather climbed into Veronica’s bedroom without a thought.

She didn’t notice JD until he stood, shocked silent at the sight of her.

“Oh my god, Heather, what happened?” Veronica stepped forward and placed her hands on Heather’s shoulders, steadying her. Her face suddenly went chalk-white. “Oh no. They didn’t—“

“I’m fine,” Heather stuttered through her tears, realizing what Veronica must have thought. “I just,” She hiccupped once before she managed to continue, “Heather said… she said…”

But Heather couldn’t make herself repeat what she’d said. “She made a joke about… what I do after lunch.” Heather’s distrustful eyes slipped over JD, not sure how he’d react.

His face was stony and blank, perfectly masking whatever he was thinking.

Veronica, on the other hand, had a curious expression that combined horror, fury, sympathy, and sadness all at the same time.

In a better mood, Heather would have thought it was beautiful. She found it rather beautiful even now.

Gently, Veronica took Heather’s scraped hand between hers, brushing her thumb over the raw, torn skin. “Notia, I ask your blessing and your help that we might hide this pain and keep it concealed, lost like a memory in your night.”

There was a curious, soft, cold feeling brushing over her skin, as if her hands had been wrapped in silk and then buried in snow. When she’d mustered up the courage to look at them, there was no trace of the cuts, and only faint smudges of blood remained.

Veronica beamed. “That worked nicely.”

JD crossed the room to examine her hands. “Very good. That’s powerful stuff.”

“It was easy,” Veronica bragged. “Maybe Heather helped me.”

Though she still felt torn and ragged on the inside, Heather found herself smiling. “How… magical.”

Veronica was still holding Heather’s hands, and when Heather looked up to meet her eyes, there was a pause as they smiled at each other.

_Dyke._

Heather’s harsh whisper entered her head, and Heather snatched her hands away, feeling the tears build up at the back of her throat.

Veronica glanced away, no longer smiling, and Heather felt a single hot tear slide down her cheek.

“We should do something,” JD said. His face was still unreadable, but he stepped away and began to pace Veronica’s bedroom. “More than bad dreams.”

“Are you talking about revenge?” Veronica asked.

“Sort of,” JD said. “Mostly I’m talking about acting in the interests of my god. Voni believes that the mighty must be brought down, must be laughed at. My prank with the gun on my first day here was a tribute to him, in that way. Heather is just begging to be brought down.”

Veronica glanced at Heather so quickly Heather almost didn’t see it. “I’m in. Heather, what do you want to do?”

Something in the back of Heather’s mind started to tingle and she shivered pleasantly. She thought about the lie she’d told them about what Heather had mocked her for. “I want… I want to make Heather puke her guts out.” What she really wanted was for Heather to never speak to her, or anyone else, ever again, but she couldn’t say that. Veronica had heard too many of Heather’s insults to believe that this was the one that sent Heather over the edge.

“An excellent choice.” JD smiled. “We’ll go to her house tomorrow and fix her a little hangover cure that’ll induce her to spew red, white, and blue.”

“Charming,” Heather said, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t hold back her smile. Finally, things might be going her way.

They slept in Veronica’s bedroom; all three sprawled across the floor, with Veronica’s book of the gods on the floor between them. They’d all eventually fallen asleep after over an hour of reading stories out of the book, and practicing the occasional spell.

Heather rolled over. She hadn’t tried any magic, as she didn’t yet have a goddess to sponsor it, but though JD and Veronica had pressed her to practice a little with Yarwis, to see how it felt, she’d demurred.

Carefully avoiding her name, Heather thought about the goddess she wanted to call upon, even knowing that Veronica wouldn’t approve. She fell asleep contemplating revenge with a smile on her face.

They broke into Heather’s house bright and early the next morning. There was something oddly satisfying about being in Heather’s kitchen without her knowledge.

Heather had the odd urge to throw a plate into a wall, or smash vase, just so Heather would have to clean it up later.

JD surveyed the kitchen. “Voni, guide us so that we can get back at this bitch.”

For a moment, they all stood in the center of the kitchen, not doing anything except awkwardly making eye contact with each other.

The JD crossed the room to the fridge. “What about milk and orange juice?”

“Heather can’t drink milk,” Veronica said, “It makes her sick.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Or,” Veronica said, even though JD was already pouring milk into a glass, “We could cook up some soup and put it in a coke!”

Heather shuddered as a wave of revulsion swept through her.

JD seemed to agree with her. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. We’ll keep in mind.”

“It looks weird,” Heather said, staring at the combination in the glass, which was separating, “Put it in this.” She handed JD a mug, into which he poured the mixture.

Heather wasn’t sure it could make Heather sick enough for her to feel satisfied. Their dumb little potion looked far too innocuous, and though she knew that dairy made Heather sick, Heather doubted that one glass of milk would match the stomach-churning horror, disgust, and pain that one single word had caused in Heather.

“I’ll carry the glass,” Heather said, taking it out of JD’s hands.

“Okay.” He eyed her with some suspicion, but turned and led the way out of the kitchen, Veronica and Heather at his heels.

Heather stared at the glass. _Dyke._ The word echoed in her head, sharp like glass. She knew that she would hear that word over and over again now that Heather knew it hurt her.

 _Do something about it,_ A brittle, soft voice murmured in the back of her mind. _Make her stop._

She gripped the mug tighter. _Let this work; let this be my great revenge. Let it silence Heather for good so that she can never hurt me again._

For a second, Heather thought she felt the mug get warm, but it was over so fast it must have been her imagination. Shaking her head to clear away her thoughts, she climbed the stairs and entered Heather’s bedroom behind Veronica.

Heather shifted on the bed, sitting up and removing the stupid pink eye mask she always slept in. “Oh Jesus, what is this? An intervention?”

Veronica nudged Heather to step forward, and she did. “Actually, Heather, it’s an apology. I,” She swallowed hard, “I shouldn’t have run off like that last night.”

“Cute,” Heather said, not appearing overly impressed. “Did you tell them what happened?” Her eyes flicked between Veronica and Heather, and she lifted one eyebrow in a suggestion. “Did Veronica comfort you?”

“Drink this,” Heather said, and it came off as more of a command than she’d meant it too. She took a breath and softened her voice. “We made you a hangover cure. It’ll make you feel better.”

Heather scoffed. “I’m not drinking that piss.”

JD shrugged and started to turn away. “I told you it would be too intense for her. Let’s go.”

They shuffled toward the door, and bitter regret curled in Heather’s stomach. She had failed.

“Ugh, give me the cup, jerk.” Heather got out of the bed and took the cup roughly from Heather’s hands. In the last second she saw it, Heather thought the liquid was blue, rather than the milky orange it was supposed to be.

She dismissed the thought as a trick of the light until Heather crashed through the glass coffee table.

JD, Veronica, and Heather stared at Heather’s body in silent shock.

“Oh my god, I just killed my best friend,” Veronica whispered.

“And my worst enemy,” Heather said, so quietly she was sure neither of the other’s could hear. Louder, she said, “What do we do?”

JD appeared frozen in shock. “What have we done? Voni… what…” Whatever prayer or absolution he might have attempted died on his lips as he continued to watch Heather’s body as though it might get up and mock them all for believing in her performance.

But a heavy certainty weighed on Heather, and she knew that Heather wouldn’t get up, that there was no life left in her.

“I betrayed my god,” JD whispered. “It was just supposed to be a prank. What happened?” He picked up the mug, staring into it. “It’s blue. But it…”

Heather’s stomach clenched. Blue.

“I dedicated this to Voni, but I didn’t mean to…” JD trailed off. Of course they hadn’t meant to.

Heather glanced away, not sure that _she_ hadn’t meant to.

“We have to hide this,” Veronica looked around the room as if some way to hide a body would present itself.

Heather looked down at the book that was lying next to Heather on the shattered remains of the table. “She was reading The Bell Jar.”

JD met her eyes, horror and interest all over his face, as he comprehended her idea. “If this wasn’t… if it wasn’t a murder…”

“What are you talking about?” Veronica asked, “Clearly, it was a murder!”

“What if it was a suicide thing?” JD looked a little sick.

“Oh my god,” Veronica whispered. But she picked up a pen and paper off of Heather’s vanity. “Notia, help me to hide this, the greatest of my secrets and crimes. Let me write with Heather’s hand a note that no one will question, and veil the eyes of all who suspect with your night.”

She began to write.

When the note was done, she left it next to the body, and JD wiped off whatever fingerprints they might have left on the cup before placing it back in Heather’s hand. “Voni protect us all.”

Heather was the only one who wasn’t feeling solemn. Heather Chandler was gone. Truly gone, and she could never hurt anyone again.

Especially Heather.

The thought brought a smile to Heather’s face, which she quickly had to smother, as the other’s clearly hadn’t yet realized that this was a good thing. They would though. Tomorrow, they would go to school, and they would see how much better it had become.

That night, lying in bed, Heather finally allowed herself to be honest about what had happened, about what she had done. She stared up into the darkness around her bed and whispered, “Thank you, Alida.”

The next morning, the copy of Moby Dick she’d left on her nightstand was gone; in its place was a book of the gods.


	2. Act Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through hell and a lot of caffeine to get this done. Enjoy!

Heather Duke was on top of the world. Walking down the aisle of a church, dramatic in a short, ruffled black dress and long black gloves, everyone stopped talking to watch her go by.

She could feel the eyes of her goddess on her, smiling with pride. This was what power felt like. Since Heather Chandler had crashed through that coffee table, Heather had been bursting with energy. Her hands tingled and her vision felt sharper.

 _I am powerful,_ Heather thought. She wanted to beam at all the students she passed, but she forced her face into a mask of bereavement and they all bowed their heads in deference.

She took her seat next to Veronica and smiled. “I thought I might burst into flames walking into the church.”

Veronica didn’t smile back. “Heather, we need to talk.”

“Where’s JD?” Heather asked, though she was secretly pleased that he wasn’t here. It was nice to have some time with only Veronica; she wasn’t sure where Veronica had gone after she and JD had dropped her off on Sunday morning. Or if she and JD had gone their together.

Alida’s power hummed through her, feeding on the wiggle of jealousy in that thought. If she wanted to, she could do something about it.

The candles next to Veronica that were set up all over the church flickered brighter, the flames growing unnaturally high, and Heather knew she had done it.

Veronica watched her curiously. “Heather?”

“Oh. Right. Well, I have to go home after the funeral, but maybe we can talk tonight? You can come over to my house and we’ll listen to Hot Probs.”

Finally, a smile curled around Veronica’s lips. “That sounds nice.”

Silence fell in the church as Father Ripper arrived at the pulpit and began to eulogize Heather, ultimately citing her death as a great tragedy for which he blamed MTV and video games, two things Heather had never had any interest in during her life.

When he finished to a light smattering of awkward applause and those that were faking tears had loudly blown their noses, everyone formed a line leading to Heather’s casket.

Heather knelt next to it. _I prayed that you would die many times, but only once when it counted. I dedicate this death to you, Alida, and ask that you bless my future endeavors._

She wasn’t sure what she would want to do in the future, but a subtle certainty had settled in her mind that no matter what she sought to do, and whom she sought to do it to, Alida would be there to help.

Alida, the goddess of revenge. Heather’s goddess.

She smiled and stood up, looking down at Heather’s body, silent and still in its pink silk. Then she put her head up and walked away, leaving Heather Chandler and everything she represented behind her.

When she stepped into the sunlight, it was with the certain knowledge that this was her new beginning, and all the pains of the past were gone.

Knowing she would see Veronica later, Heather didn’t wait for her to come out of the church. She walked away towards her house, veering off towards the drugstore so she could pick up some chocolate on her way. She’d been starving ever since Heather’s death, and not once had it crossed her mind that she should try to get rid of the calories she was consuming.

She was practically skipping by the time she walked through her door, eager to read through her book of the gods and learn more about her new patroness, possibly even trying some magic.

The book was tucked underneath her perfectly made bed. Even if her mother had come into her room—something she hadn’t done since Heather was a child—she wouldn’t have found it. Ignoring the other books on her shelf, Heather sat cross-legged on her bed and opened it to a random page, trusting that Alida would show her the information she needed.

This picture was in color, a change from Veronica’s book. When she looked closely at it, Heather thought it almost seemed to move, so vivid were the colors and the way the artist had conveyed the shadows. Four girls held hands and danced in a circle, their loose dresses curling around in a summer breeze Heather swore she could smell.

_There were once four sisters. Idaer had smiled upon their mother, and so the sun shone more brightly upon the daughters. One daughter in particular, the youngest, was the favorite of Idaer and of their mother, so much that the elder girls began to suspect that she wasn’t their father’s true daughter, but the daughter of the sun. For this, they mocked her._

Turning the page, Heather found a new drawing, this one of the same four girls, but this time, three of them were still in their circle, and one was sitting under a tree holding a book.

_The fourth sister spent more time alone, studied magic, and declared herself a servant of Idaer. For this, she thought she would earn the admiration of her sisters. Instead, their cruelty continued, until the day when they betrayed her, shaming her in front of her village and her god._

Heather turned the page again, absorbed in the story. The new picture showed the fourth sister consumed in fire, her hands raised over her head. Around her, the village and the people in it, including her sisters, were burning.

_So her humanity was burned in the fire of her fury and she abandoned her sisters and her home on earth, ascending to join the gods as Alida._

The next page started another story, and Heather read on, desperate for more. She hardly noticed the hours passing until she realized she was hungry again.

The house was silent as she walked through it on the way to the kitchen. Her parents weren’t home yet, and probably wouldn’t be for a while.

Heather noticed that the plant her mother had gotten ages ago in a random desire to start growing her own herbs was wilting pathetically on the windowsill.

The buzz of power returned to her hands and she smiled, pressing one gently against the side of the pot. “Alida, save this life from its neglect. Let it thrive against those who would watch it die.”

Her palm felt burning hot for a second, but the heat curled up into the leaves of the plant until it was standing tall, its leaves bright and full. Alive.

“I did that,” Heather whispered. “Thank you, Alida.”

After making herself a quick sandwich, Heather sprinted back to her room to practice.

Once again, she sat cross-legged on her bed, but this time, she left her book of the gods where it was, and focused her attention on another book.

Carrie, one of Heather’s favorites, was sitting on a shelf across the room. Heather stared at it, willing it into her hands.

 _Flex,_ she thought with a small smile. Nothing happened.

Breathing in and out, Heather called on the memory of the buzz of power. _Let me be strong, Alida._

She lifted a trembling hand up, keeping her eyes closed and her mind centered on the book across the room.

When she felt the book drop into her hands, she almost didn’t believe it.

Soon, she could move anything. Books flew across the room, or hovered over her desk, which she also raised into the air.

Carefully returning everything to its proper place, Heather took another deep breath. It was time to practice fire.

Once again, she called on the power Alida had given her, picturing the heat and light of a small flame as she concentrated on the candle sitting on her desk.

The thud of a rock hitting her window pulled her attention away while the wick was only smoking. Heather glared at it before standing up to open the window; ready to tell Veronica she could have knocked.

JD was standing under her window, and before she could say anything, he tossed another rock directly at her face.

With a flick of her power, she sent the rock off in a different direction, hardly needing to think about it. “What the hell?”

“Heather! Sorry, I didn’t see you. Come down, Veronica needs us.”

Though questions fired through her brain, Heather didn’t hesitate before slamming the window closed and running downstairs, barely stopping to grab a jacket on the way.

JD was waiting for her on his motorcycle, and she hesitated, stopping short before she got to it.

“Veronica sent me a message. Heather convinced her to go on a double date with Kurt and Ram and something went wrong; she needs us.”

Under normal circumstances, no power on Earth could have gotten her to climb on the back of a motorcycle with a strange guy she barely knew, but for Veronica there were few risks she wouldn’t take.

“Don’t kill us,” She said sharply, climbing on behind him and holding on for dear life.

Under the roar of the engine, she distinctly heard him say, “Notia, guide us to Veronica. Help us find her in your night.”

She repeated the plea under her breath, adding a quick invocation of Alida just in case.

They sped off into the night, and even though Heather had no idea where they were going, she was sure they were headed in the right direction and taking the correct turns as they began to leave Sherwood proper behind them and head into the more rural outskirts of the town.

JD braked on the edge of the road, looking down a small, forested hill. “This is the spot.”

“JD?” Veronica’s voice came from somewhere near them, but Heather couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, and Heather.”

Veronica appeared out of thin air, just to the left of them. “Let’s go.”

“What happened?”

Heather looked past the trees into the barely visible field beyond. Two people appeared to be wrestling on the ground. A brief glimpse of a yellow sweater told her everything she needed to know. Her stomach twisted. Should she help?

Images flashed through her mind of every time Heather had laughed at one of Heather’s terrible comments, every time she had the opportunity to stand up for Heather, or offer her comfort after one of Heather’s cruel attacks. She never had.

Heather turned her back, squeezing herself onto the bike behind Veronica. The engine roared and they drove away, leaving Heather and Ram behind.

JD drove them back to Heather’s house—it was the only one where they wouldn’t be troubled by parents—so that Veronica could tell them what happened.

“I thought I was just doing a favor for Heather. She begged me to go on this stupid double date and she promised she would drop me off at your house afterwards.” Veronica looked at Heather apologetically. “I shouldn’t have believed her. Of course they wanted to go cow tipping.”

“I really don’t see the appeal,” JD said. He was wandering around Heather’s room, perusing her bookshelves.

“They brought some beers and were drinking, I don’t even know when Ram and Heather started making out, but it got weird and I told Kurt I wanted to go home. He… didn’t want me to.”

Fury, hot and dark, curled inside Heather, and her power hummed up and down her arms, begging her to use it.

Veronica sighed. “I ran away before he could touch me, but he chased me. I had to use magic to hide myself.” She shuddered. “Ugh, I just want a shower.”

“You can use mine,” Heather offered, pointing to the bathroom.

Veronica nodded and left the room. Heather heard the water turn on as she played with the hem of her skirt, not quite sure to say now that she was alone with JD.

“So, Carrie,” He said.

For an instant, she almost corrected him, shocked at the idea that he could possibly have gotten her name wrong, but she quickly realized he was holding up the book. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I liked it.”

“I liked It better,” He said. “Have you read Tommyknockers yet?”

Heather made a face. “I have to reread it; it didn’t make any sense the first time. You?”

“I haven’t read it yet.”

Heather sized him up for a long time. She still wasn’t sure she could trust him, but she decided to trust Veronica’s instincts. “You can have my copy, but don’t fold the pages, and don’t write in it.”

“I would never,” He said, accepting the book she handed him.

They were silent for a while as he continued to stalk her bookshelves.

“So what’s going on with you and Veronica?” He asked abruptly.

Heather frowned. “Nothing. I don’t know what you mean.”

JD licked his lips, rolling his eyes. “Right. That’s how girls always look at each other when they’re leaving rooms.”

Her face flushed, and Heather’s voice returned to her head. _Dyke._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was cold and steady, but her hands were sweating and trembling.

He finally looked her in the eyes. “Heather, it’s fine. I’ve been there. At my last school there was this guy… It didn’t go anywhere, but whatever. The point is, I get it.”

“Shut up.” Heather turned her back on him, wishing she could make him disappear.

“For what it’s worth,” He said, “I think she likes you too.”

“Then why did she sleep with you?” Heather wished she hadn’t said it, as it was all but an admission that he was right, but she wanted to know the answer.

“For the hell of it? Because it wasn’t complicated? Sometimes shit just happens. That happened, and now it’s over. Veronica and I are friends.”

“But you like her, right?” Heather said.

JD smiled cryptically. “I’ll admit it if you do.”

Heather pursed her lips and turned away.

The water shut off and Veronica returned moments later, wrapped in Heather’s faded bathrobe. “Thanks. I feel better now.”

Heather smiled shyly and glanced away. She could smell the clean, fresh smell of her own soap coming from Veronica’s skin, and there was something pleasantly intimate about it.

The thought sent a hot flush crawling up her cheeks and she looked away, suddenly feeling intrusive. JD caught her eye and she could see his questions written across his face, along with a smug I Told You So expression.

She was really starting to hate him.

“So what now?” Veronica said. “I feel like doing something fun. Did I miss Hot Probs?”

Heather had completely forgotten the radio show in her excitement about practicing magic. “Um, yeah, I think so.”

“Too bad. Were there any good ones?”

For whatever reason, Heather didn’t want to confess that she hadn’t listened. “Um, not really. It was boring tonight.”

“Maybe Heather should practice with Yarwis,” JD said. “It might be good for you to try some things.”

Heather’s heart sped up. Did he suspect that she’d been using Alida for magic? Could he somehow sense it? “Oh, I don’t know...”

“That’s a great idea,” Veronica beamed. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun!” She put a gentle hand on Heather’s shoulder.

JD smiled. “I should get going, but have a good time.”

Heather snorted. “What, you have a curfew?”

A shadow passed over JD’s face and Veronica looked away. Heather was aware that her joke had fallen flat and that this silence was intensely awkward, but she couldn’t fathom why.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He climbed out her bedroom window—though he could have just walked downstairs and used the door—and moments later she heard his engine roar and fade into the night.

“What was that—“

“So, do you want to play hide and seek?” Veronica asked, her smile slightly forced as she interrupted Heather’s question. “We’ll go outside where it’s dark and I’ll hide so you can call on Yarwis to help you find me!”

Even if the smile was forced, Heather was glad it was pointed at her. “Okay.”

As it turned out, finding the servant of a goddess of nighttime in a dark backyard was nearly impossible. It would have been completely impossible without the help of another goddess. Heather hoped it wasn’t some kind of blasphemy to call on Yarwis, but this fun little game with Veronica hardly seemed like something that required the attention of the goddess of revenge so Heather sent her prayers to the goddess of the earth.

“Help me, Yarwis,” She whispered, “Let me feel your earth and see without eyes.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Heather breathed through her nose focusing on the feeling of the slightly damp earth under her feet, and the cool autumn wind on her cheeks.

Her attention sharpened, and a subtle awareness crept over her. Suddenly, she realized her yard had a slight downward slope that she’d never noticed before.

She could feel the roots of the trees growing up from deep within the earth, tangling with one another in a subtle language of touch and closeness.

Heather followed her sense of the roots up towards the trunks of the trees, feeling around them. Just next to a tree a few steps away from Heather, she could sense breathing, and weight pressing down on the grass. Veronica.

Silently, Heather crept around the tree, trusting her sense of the earth to guide her until she was right behind Veronica.

“Got you!” She said, pressing her hands over Veronica’s eyes.

Breaking her hold, Veronica materialized out of the night air and turned to face Heather, smiling.

Then she kissed her. “No, I think I got you.”

She certainly had. Heather was frozen for a long second, almost too long to enjoy the kiss. She managed to recover long enough to kiss Veronica back, to make sure she knew that she had wanted that. That she had always wanted that.

They broke apart in a dizzy rush of blushing bashfulness.

Yarwis’s power remained just behind her eyes, softer than Alida’s. It reached for Veronica, just as Heather was.

Heather kissed Veronica again. She tasted like late nights outside and starlight, and a million things Heather couldn’t describe.

Veronica smiled against her lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Heather said breathlessly and with too much enthusiasm.

Both of them giggled, laughing and clinging to each other, magic twirling between them. It was invisible, but Heather could feel it emanating from Veronica’s skin and winding around her. Whatever was left of the power she’d borrowed form Yarwis responded, settling on the ground until Heather could sense new, delicate roots forming and flowers blossoming between them.

 

Heather found a note Veronica left the next morning when she rolled over to shut off her alarm clock.

_Sorry I couldn’t stay; I needed to change for school. Thanks for letting me stay over_

_XO Veronica_

Getting ready for school passed in a blur for Heather. She held Veronica’s note and floated through the normally laborious process of choosing and outfit and trying to make her unmanageable hair presentable.

When faced with her closet, Heather passed by several of her most-loved outfits until she settled on a white jacket and a wide, red belt. She felt like lightening in human form, she might as well look like it too.

Whispers followed her as she walked down the hall. Perhaps people could tell that she wasn’t grieving as much as she should be. Heather considered faking tears, but decided to wait until it might get her out of class.

At her locker, she finally managed to catch the content of the whispers.

“I heard she dragged them both out to some field and begged for it,” The girl nearest her was hissing to her friend. “They’re saying she did both of them.”

“Both? Disgusting.”

“I know, right? What a slut.”

“I thought Veronica was seeing that new guy? Didn’t she leave Heather’s funeral with him?” A third girl said, and Heather’s attention snapped back to the conversation. She slowed her movements to buy more time for eavesdropping.

The first girl snorted. “She probably did him too.”

With a flick of their over-processed hair, the girls moved on down the hallway, leaving Heather to seethe.

She wanted to burn them for spreading bile like that about Veronica. How dare they?

It would have been so easy.

 _Alida._ Heather’s thoughts reached out to her goddess, and she felt the familiar hum in her hands.

The bell rang and the sounds of the hallway came into sharper focus. The power faded to a dull thrum at the back of her head, noticeable only if she looked for it. Frustrated but unable to do anything about it, Heather went to class.

She didn’t see Veronica until lunchtime, when she found a note in her locker that just said “The clearing. Now,” In Veronica’s messy scrawl.

Heather had never been fond of running, but now she sprinted out to the clearing, stumbling and nearly falling several times before she made it there.

Just like the first time she’d come here, JD was kneeling in front of some kind of shrine, which he immediately blocked from her view.

Veronica was sitting against a tree next to him, her head on her knees.

“Are you okay?” Heather asked tentatively, squatting beside her.

She nodded. “I’m pissed. I want my diary.”

That confused Heather. She would have wanted revenge. In fact, she did want revenge and the rumors weren’t even about her.

“I could hit them for you,” JD offered.

Veronica gave him a baleful look. “You’d die.”

JD didn’t dispute this.

“What about using magic?” Heather said, feeling like she was stating the obvious.

“That’s not really what it’s for, Heather,” JD said.

Heather’s brows pulled together. “What do you mean? We can do everything.”

For a second, Heather thought she saw fear in JD’s eyes, but it passed too quickly to be sure. “No we can’t,” He said slowly. “And even if we could; we shouldn’t.”

“There are some things magic just isn’t for, Heather,” Veronica explained, putting her hand over Heather’s. “We’ll find something else to do.”

“But JD shot them!” Heather couldn’t believe they were acting like magic wasn’t an option, when the air was so thick with it Heather could hardly see. It was dizzying, swirling behind her eyes like she’d stared into the sun too long.

JD shook his head. “I shot them with regular blanks from a regular gun. I just dedicated it to Voni; that’s different than using his power to do something to them.”

“Well, you gave Heather nightmares!”

Veronica patted her hand gently. “Heather, the gods give us power, and they don’t really care what we do with it, but that means that unless you’re careful, the power will overtake you.”

“Like it did for Alida,” JD said.

“Alida,” Heather whispered, and saying the name removed some of the pressure in her head.

“The goddess of revenge. She was half human, but she used too much of Idaer’s power and it consumed her; she died.”

“She became a goddess,” Heather corrected instinctively.

“When she used all that power, it took over her humanity. She had her godhood to fall back on, but we don’t. If we use too much…” JD trailed off, looking ill. “You have to be careful leaning on magic too much, that’s all.”

“So what do we do?” Heather asked, looking at Veronica. She was sick of seeing people get hurt, sick of being helpless.

Magic was supposed to fix this.

“I say we skip class,” JD said. “Veronica, you can get your diary, and we’ll find something fun to do.”

They ended up playing croquet in Veronica’s backyard while Veronica wrote in her diary. A small crystal sat next to her, glittering dully in the autumn sunlight and holding her page open.

Heather intentionally hit her ball so she could stand closer to JD. “What’s Veronica doing?” She said in a low voice.

“Cleansing,” JD said, attempting to hit her ball, but managing to miss spectacularly despite the close range. “She pours her negativity into the journal and out through the crystal. It helps keep her sane, I think.”

“What keeps you sane?” She glanced at Veronica again, and noticed that the crystal had an odd glow to it that the faded sunlight couldn’t explain.

He smirked. “Who says I’m sane?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.” With that, she knocked his ball out, winning the game easily, and proving that she’d been more or less toying with him the whole time.

Unperturbed, he grabbed his ball and returned to the center of the yard, setting up to begin a new game, but Heather was bored and tossed her mallet to the ground.

“I have another question,” She said, mostly hoping to distract him from the game. “What’s the point of doing spells with more than one person? You said you and Veronica…” She trailed off, not wanting to think about what he and Veronica had done.

“It’s to help share the power between people, so we’re doing more, but it isn’t as dangerous when filtered and shared between two people.”

“So two or three people together could do something really big,” Heather said thoughtfully.

“Not really big, but yeah, bigger.” He looked closely at her, and a creeping suspicion swept over her; JD knew something. “Why?”

“No reason, I was just curious.”

They played two more games without discussing magic. Instead, they relentlessly trash-talked each other, while completely ignoring the rules of the game and making every possible attempt to knock each other’s balls out of the playing area.

When Veronica sat up and closed her diary, they both stopped their game, though Heather had been about to win.

“I want to do something,” Veronica said. “I’ve thought about it, and written about it, and I think we need to get back at them in a way they won’t forget, otherwise they’ll keep doing this.”

JD nodded slowly. “What did you have in mind?”

Heather already had ideas dancing and burning in her mind, but she didn’t voice any of them. Some of them were alarming even to her, so she kept them to herself.

“When I was running from Kurt, I was so scared. I knew you were coming, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be there in time, and hiding isn’t perfect… I want them to feel like that, and humiliated on top of it.”

“We have to make sure we don’t get caught,” JD said. “Not to sound like a third-grader but they’ll tell on us.”

“Not if they’re scared,” Heather said.

“I could shoot them again,” JD offered.

“With something other than blanks?” Heather muttered, low enough that the others couldn’t hear. Aloud, she said, “Or we could try something new?”

“Shooting them scared them the first time,” Veronica said, “And the nightmare spell worked on Heather. Maybe we should combine them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dose them with something so they trip balls and see dragons or something,” Heather said.

“Where the hell are we going to get those kind of drugs in Sherwood, Ohio?” JD asked flatly.

“Remington?” Heather said, “Or my mother’s medicine cupboard?” Elizabeth Duke had something of a vicodin habit that she had stopped trying to hide from her daughter.

“That’s dark,” JD said.

“No shit,” Heather snapped. “Anyway, getting the drugs won’t be the issue.”

“No,” Veronica interrupted. “That’s not good enough. I want to make sure they have the worst experiences of their lives. It has to feel real. We need to use magic.”

Finally. Heather had been hoping the conversation would go here, but she hadn’t wanted to push it. If JD was suspicious of her allegiance to Alida, she had to be careful what she said.

“Let’s make them believe they’re dead.” The idea was out of Heather’s mouth before she’d thought through it, but as soon as she did, she knew it was perfect. “Kurt and Ram are super religious. They go to Heather’s mom’s church and talk about being saved and shit—“

“So if we made them believe they died and went to hell…” JD said, licking his lips and considering the idea.

A slow smile spread across Veronica’s face, warming Heather to her core. “It’s perfect.”

“It’ll take a lot of planning,” JD said.

Veronica beamed. “We have all night, don’t we?”

“It’s a good idea, but I’m not sure. It’ll take a lot of power to hold them still and make them believe that.”

“We have Heather!”

Again, Heather’s heart warmed at Veronica’s enthusiasm, and she wrapped her hand around Veronica’s.

“Heather’s never done anything like this, and it’s too important to mess up.”

“Why do you think I would mess up?” Heather snapped defensively.

JD put his hands up. “It’s not that I think you would mess up, it’s just that you’ve only known about the secret gods for two days and you would be the most important part of the spell.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yarwis is the goddess of earth, so as the agent of earth in the spell, it would be your job to make sure the magic didn’t get out of control. You would be there to stop things.”

“I can do it,” Heather insisted, though she wasn’t sure about anything. Could she call on Yarwis? Did she even want to?”

“See,” Veronica said, “Heather can do it. I saw her with Yarwis last night; she was a pro. Besides, you know they deserve it.”

There was no arguing with that, and Heather was glad JD didn’t try. He just sighed and nodded. “I have to get some things from home, I’ll meet you back here tonight.”

Heather and Veronica went to her room, and lay down on her bed without talking. Veronica put her head on Heather’s chest, sighing. “This is the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

For the first time, Heather saw how shaken up Veronica really was, and her heart ached. “We’re being kind,” Heather said through gritted teeth, wishing she could rip Kurt and Ram limb from limb, knowing she would do it and still sleep soundly.

Veronica sighed, and stretched up to kiss Heather.

Heather kissed her back, trying to ignore the almost painful nerves in her stomach, and Heather’s hissed whisper, still there at the back of her mind. _Dyke._

 _Shut up, Heather,_ She thought at it, _You’re dead and nothing you said matters anymore._

Forcing her thoughts to be silent, Heather poured all of her energy into kissing Veronica and forgetting everything else.

When they broke apart, Heather felt much better, and Veronica seemed more relaxed too. They cuddled together, giggling awkwardly as they tried to get comfortable.

After a while of silence, Heather asked a question that had been bothering her. “Why is JD so paranoid about magic?”

Veronica shrugged and yawned. “I’m not sure, but he’s been studying this stuff forever. His mom was a servant of Orena and probably taught him all kinds of rules.”

Heather nodded, noticing that Veronica was drifting off. Though she had plenty, she didn’t ask her any more questions.

They fell asleep tangled up in each other’s arms, their clothes in disarray and their hair mussed.

Heather woke up when JD tapped on Veronica’s window just as darkness was falling outside. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, shaking the arm that had fallen asleep with Veronica’s head on it.

Veronica stirred too, shifting to sit up and pat her hair back into place. “Do you have what we need?”

JD nodded. “This shit can get pretty dark, we have to be careful.”

The old book in his hand called Heather’s attention. It was bound in dark leather, with strange patterns etched into it and it smelled like power.

Heather took it from him, almost in a trance, and opened it to the page he’d marked. “Dreams and Delusions,” She read aloud. “Will this work?”

“It should if we do it right.” JD said. “Once we start the spell, they won’t be able to move, after they’ve had their horrible hell nightmare, Heather will call them back, replacing their memories so that they think they were in the woods alone. We’ll leave the alcohol I stole from my dad and some of Heather’s mom’s pills so they assume they nearly died from those.”

Heather nodded and read over the words in the book. It seemed so simple, and so painless. She wished they would hurt a little more, but scaring them would have to be enough for them.

“Let’s make this a hell of a dream,” Heather said.

Veronica smiled wickedly. “It will be.”

At dawn, the three of them stood in the cool autumn air, surrounded by trees. JD and Heather hid while Veronica waited in the clearing for Kurt and Ram to show up.

“As soon as they step into the circle, we surround them,” JD said, though they’d been over the plan so many times the night before that Heather could have said the words with him. “Then we start. No one move, and don’t break the circle. Say your lines just like we planned them.”

“We know,” Heather snapped, her nerves getting the better of her.

Veronica smiled at her. “It’ll be fine.”

The sharp sound of a twig breaking startled them all, and JD and Heather disappeared behind their trees as the footsteps grew louder. Veronica stood in front of the circle they’d cleared in the leaves, tossing a final smile over her shoulder at Heather.

It was too easy to get them to stand in the circle. For added comedic effect, Veronica went off-script and got them to strip, all without removing a stitch of her clothing, despite the promise she’d made to get the boys here.

As soon as they were in place, Heather and JD stepped into the clearing, and JD began the spell.

“I call on the sun, father of Voni who seeks to take back power from the undeserving. Let us use your power to make them see their actions and be punished.”

Kurt and Ram were frozen, confused and staring in the center of the circle. Heather felt the magic pour from JD, wrapping around the circle and twining through Veronica and Heather, connecting all three of them.

Heather saw the spell begin to take effect, and somehow knew exactly what was happening. Kurt and Ram fell to their knees, no longer seeing the clearing or the people around them.

“Notia of the night, show them your darkness,” Veronica said, her voice no louder than usual and yet resonant. “Let them know true fear, their own worst fears and every terrible thing you, goddess, can imagine.”

The spell showed Heather flashes of what Kurt and Ram were seeing, like images from a horror movie. She was too removed to be scared of it, but she could sense their fear. Both boys were trembling, and the power of their terror made Heather feel alive.

She could also sense Veronica’s elation, and underneath it the pain from the rumors. It was obvious to Heather that this was making her feel better.

The spell expanded, and some of Ram’s memories leaked through. His night with Heather McNamara made Heather’s stomach turn with guilt and revulsion, images of other girls he’d slept with, stared at, or mocked.

 _He’s rotten,_ Heather thought, _All the way through They both are._

Their nightmares began to wind down, and Heather knew her time had come.

“Finish this, and wipe it from their minds,” She said, but she hesitated before continuing. If she finished this spell and invoked Yarwis like she was supposed to, Kurt and Ram would be allowed to walk away.

Had they really suffered enough? Would this change them? Could scum like them change?

Heather couldn’t take that risk. “Finish the job, Alida!”

Wind and heat roared past Heather’s ears, and she lost sight of the clearing. She could still sense Veronica and JD, bound as they were by the spell, but she couldn’t see them. Magic poured from her and into them, until suddenly it stopped.

Silence and light.

The clearing, JD, and finally, Veronica, slowly swam back into her sight.

And Kurt and Ram were slumped over on the ground, dead.

“Oh my god,” JD whispered, looking from Heather to the bodies. “What… Alida?” He reached out to grab her arm.

Heather shook him off. “No time. Leave the whiskey next to them and let’s go.” Heather pulled the bottle of her mom’s pills—with the label carefully scraped off— from her pocket and placed it in Kurt’s hand.

JD dropped the bottle between them.

Veronica stared at the bodies, confusion, surprise, and something else Heather couldn’t name on her face. “Heather…”

Taking her hand, Heather led Veronica out of the woods with JD trailing behind them. “It’s okay, Veronica.”

“No it’s not okay, Heather!” Veronica snapped, startling Heather with her sudden volume. “We killed them!”

“Well, yeah,” Heather admitted, “But we had to! After what they did, and you saw their memories, that’s not even the worst thing they’ve done. You’ll see, this is a good thing.”

JD watched her. “Heather, I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with. Alida is—“

“Don’t talk about her,” Heather snapped. She refused to hear what he had to say about Alida. “She’s my goddess. She claimed me.”

He nodded. “She might be right, Veronica. I mean, all those two had to offer the world were date rapes and AIDS jokes. I can’t pretend to be sad they’re gone.”

Slowly, still looking dazed. Veronica nodded and squeezed Heather’s hand. “Yeah. It’s good. Right.”

Heather let out her breath, relieved, not that it mattered how any of them felt about the deaths. Alida’s power remained in her hands and her head, ringing with the finality of what had happened.

The deed was done, and Heather had set them all on a path she couldn’t change.


	3. Act Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too tired for notes. Enjoy!

Heather Duke was on edge.

Perhaps things were going too well, or maybe the tiniest bit of latent guilt had managed to slip into her icy heart when she’d come home to her mother crying. Mrs. Sweeny had called her, and Heather had watched, adrift, as her mother had cried with her friend over the phone.

And now it was time for the funeral, something that should have made her feel triumphant, but a glance at her seat in the front of the church next to her mother and Mrs. Sweeny, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Martha Dunnstock was sitting there too, with her mother. It made sense, Mrs. Duke, Mrs. Sweeny, and Mrs. Dunnstock had always been friends. They’d been neighbors once, and they’d all been pregnant at the same time.

Now once of them had lost a son, and the other two seemed to be clinging to their daughters as if they might disappear any second too. Heather had stolen this moment, faking tears so that her mother would let her be alone for a goddamn second.

 _Alida, give me the strength and the power to get through this._ No warm rush flooded her hands. Her power stayed dormant, and Heather nearly stamped her foot in frustration.

“Heather, can I talk to you?” A voice asked behind her.

JD stood, his eyes suspiciously concerned and locked on Heather. She glanced around, checking to be sure none of the other funeral-goers were watching them; Heather interacting with the local freak wouldn’t look good.

“If you must,” She sighed.

“I must,” He answered flatly. “Heather, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re out of control.”

“Is there a right way to take that?” Heather snapped, already offended.

JD barely flinched. “Yes; as the genuine concern of a friend, which is what it is. I’ve seen this before Heather, and I’m begging you to stop.”

“Stop what?” Alarm made Heather’s voice shake. “Using magic?” The idea of giving up her beautiful newfound power was horrifying.

With a long sigh, JD dragged his hand through his hair. “No. I wouldn’t ask that. But you need to slow down. And no one else can die.”

Carefully, Heather wiped all expression off her face. “Did I really kill _people_?” Tossing her hair, Heather turned to go, and JD grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Heather, you aren’t a bad person,” JD insisted, still holding her arm.

She snatched it away from him. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Do you think I don’t understand why you’re doing this? Do you think I don’t get being mad, being _furious_ , with everyone and everything that’s ever hurt you? I do, Heather, believe me, I understand.” He sighed, raking his hand roughly through his hair.

“It’s not just that,” Heather said. “I’m not mad. Not anymore! We don’t have to be mad anymore; we’re free.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? I don’t think—”

“JD, I’m eating,” Heather said, grabbing his sleeve, silently begging him to understand. “I never feel sick anymore. I have everything I’ve ever wanted!”

“I’m happy they’re dead too, Heather. And look around! Your way works! You scare people into not being assholes.”

For a second, Heather let his compliments go to her head. JD was finally seeing sense.

Until he continued. “It works until you look around and realize that you’re standing in a field of bodies.”

Heather snorted. “Three is hardly enough to make up a field.”

“Sometimes it only takes one.” His eyes had gone glassy, and he stared ahead, though Heather doubted he was looking at the stained glass windows that surrounded them. “Heather… Please trust me. You need to slow down, stop calling on Alida, give yourself a break.”

Her hands were buzzing with power, and the thought of its absence, and of no longer having Alida to rely on filled Heather with a nervous dread. “I can’t.”

JD’s whole body sagged in defeat and disappointed. Heather could almost feel the emotion rolling off of him in waves. “I was worried you would say that.”

He took a long, deep breath before he continued. “My mother said the same thing.”

“Your…” It struck Heather suddenly, though she hadn’t noticed it before, that JD had only mentioned his mother in passing.

“She was a worshipper of Orena, once. So was I when I was a kid. She taught me all about the secret gods and magic.” The story dragged from him slowly, as though he had to pull the words from somewhere deep inside him. “My dad… didn’t get it. The magic, the gods, it all confused him and maybe scared him. I know he and my mom fought about it, and I think… Sometimes I saw the bruises before she hid them or healed them with magic.”

“I’m sorry,” Heather whispered, and she genuinely was. Her parents were barely present and dysfunctional, but they at least tolerated each other.

JD shrugged, though his eyes were a little too bright for Heather to believe he didn’t care. “Magic made her feel powerful when her life made her feel weak. She started using it for everything. At first I thought it was cool— I was a kid and my mom was magical, why wouldn’t I?— But then she broke the rules she’d laid out for me. Orena is the goddess of fire, and the first time I got worried was when she took me to one of my dad’s sites on destruction day. That was weird for her, but she said she wanted to see the flames. The explosion got out of control, I was about to run, but she just… stopped it. Suddenly nothing was on fire. People called it a miracle, but when I looked at my mom, I could see the fire in her eyes, and I knew it was her.”

He paused for a long time. “I saw that fire in your eyes when you called on Alida.”

Heather didn’t say anything. She wanted to argue with him, but she could sense that this wasn’t a story with a happy ending.

“She had realized what she could really do, and suddenly nothing could stop her, not even me. She went to my dad’s sites and burned them, dedicating it to Orena, there was a guy who always gave her a hard time at the grocery store calling her names and shit, sometimes grabbing her. When his store burned down, he was arrested for arson and insurance fraud.”

Again, Heather had to stop herself from saying that it sounded like a good thing.

“After that, the fire never really went out of her eyes. It was always there, like a fever she couldn’t shake. I would watch her when she didn’t know I was looking, and see that she was playing with fire, burning pieces of paper and throwing them out. I told her I was worried. I begged her to stop. She didn’t.”

JD continued telling the story like someone possessed. Heather was pretty sure she could have walked out of the room and he wouldn’t have even noticed, not that she wanted to. “We were living in Texas and she said she wanted to go to my dad’s site. I told her no. I said we should stay at home, do something that had nothing to do with magic. She didn’t want to and she left me at home. Of course I followed her. I don’t think she could tell anymore where she stopped and the magic started and it was just too much. The building exploded and she went with it.”

“I’m not playing with fire,” Heather whispered.

JD glared at her. “Yes you are, just not as literally. Heather, this will kill you. I am _still_ trying to appease Orena. That’s who I pray to at the shrine in the clearing, begging her to forgive my mother’s misuse of her power.”

“If you’re so scared of magic, why do you still use it?”

His expression didn’t soften. “Voni is different than Orena or Alida, and I don’t use magic if there’s an alternative that will work just as well. You don’t even look for alternatives, not since you realized what you could do.”

“I don’t need them!”

Her voice echoed in the small space, reverberating off of the stone walls. Suddenly, Heather felt like the glass saints in the windows were judging her. Like she had done something wrong.

JD’s head dropped, and for a second he looked utterly defeated. When he met her eyes, Heather saw a deep, childlike sadness in them. It was gone a moment later. “Then I can’t help you.”

He left her.

Frustrated and irritable, Heather returned to her seat, where she glared at Martha Dunnstock who’d taken a seat next her mother.

Martha cowered into the farthest corner of the pew, not meeting Heather’s eyes and hiding behind her messy, damaged hair.

Squaring her shoulders, Heather pushed past Martha like she wasn’t even there, ignoring the part of her brain that was trying to remind Heather of their long-dead friendship.

Father Ripper droned on, he seemed almost pleased to have another funeral at which he could profess condemnation for all popular culture and the dangerous way it turned youths “against themselves”.

Heather ignored him and stole glances over her shoulder, watching the crowd. No one was crying this time. Perhaps they’d shed all the tears they had for Heather Chandler, or perhaps Kurt and Ram had been the biggest douchebags the school had ever seen, and no one felt inclined to cry.

When it was time for the parents to give speeches, Mrs. Sweeny crumbled while Heather’s mother comforted her. In the end, only Mr. Kelly, Kurt’s Father, managed to stand up and say anything.

Heather hardly paid attention to him. Mr. Kelly had always been a blowhard, full of dramatic talk that meant nothing, or so Heather’s father was inclined to say.

Instead, Heather glanced behind her again, settling her eyes on Veronica. Her head was leaned close to JD’s and they were whispering about something.

Worry swept over Heather filling her stomach with painful knots as her heart began to pound. What was JD saying? Was he telling Veronica that Heather was dangerous?

Was he trying to split them up?

Turning back to face the coffins, Heather pushed her worry aside. There was something she could do about this. She’d been through too much to let it fall apart now because of him.

_Heather, this will kill you._

She shoved his warning away; he had probably only said it to scare her so that she would stop using magic. Maybe he realized she was getting better than him. She had, after all, graduated past the little party tricks that occupied him.

She would show him just how far past that she had moved.

After the funeral, Heather attempted to corner Veronica, but her mother got in her way. “We need to go to the Sweeny’s house, dear. Karen needs us right now.”

“Mom, I have to—“

“No arguments, Heather.”

Heather’s stomach twisted with nausea, and when she looked back, searching for Veronica in the crowd, Heather saw her riding away on JD’s motorcycle.

She sat in silence for all three of the hours her mother kept her at Mrs. Sweeny’s house. Martha made the mistake of trying to speak to her once, but Heather tossed her hair. She had more important things to be thinking about anyway.

_Alida, JD wants to stop me from getting back at the people who hurt me. He wants to take Veronica away. I need to stop him._

It was silly to expect a voice to whisper advice to her—that wasn’t how this worked—but she still hoped she would get something. Heather wanted to believe she was special to Alida; she had, after all, dedicated three deaths to her.

“I just don’t understand,” Mrs. Sweeny said, for perhaps the hundredth time. “Ram was a good boy. He wouldn’t do drugs. He didn’t drink. He was a good boy.”

Unable to resist, Heather caught Martha’s eye and made a face; they were both well aware of what kind of boy Ram had really been.

For a single second, Heather forgot all that had transpired between her and Martha. She remembered, for an instant, that Martha had a fantastic sense of humor, and that she was a good storyteller. Then the three years of separation came crashing back.

Heather had realized over the summer between middle and high school that there was such a thing called ‘coolness’ and that while Martha didn’t have it; Heather could, if she stopped hanging out with Martha.

Heather had taught her that, and about that one thing, Heather had been right.

Turning away from Martha, Heather tried to think of a way to get JD out of the way.

When she got back to her house, she closed and locked her bedroom door, not that it mattered; her parents wouldn’t come up to check on her. They never did.

Removing her Book of the Gods from its hiding place, she thumbed through the pages.

“Alida, guide me. I need to stop someone who wants to get in my way.”

With her eyes closed, Heather let the book fall open to a random page, where she saw a drawing of Alida standing over a campfire. The ink drawing was almost eerily detailed; Heather could see the way the flames played on Alida’s pale face and the shadows almost seemed to move.

Shaking her head to clear away those strange thoughts, Heather turned her attention to the story next to the drawing, in which Alida helped a woman who had been betrayed by her husband. Alida told the woman to take some of the man’s favorite food and cast a spell over it so that when he ate, he would die.

Heather didn’t know what JD’s favorite food was, but he had left a pack of his cigarettes on her desk, so she picked them up. Lighting a candle to represent the campfire Alida had used, Heather followed the spell.

“Alida, my goddess, this man seeks to do me harm,” She whispered the words, holding the cigarettes over the flame. “Let me use your power, let it fill and consume him. And let him…”

She stopped. The next word was ‘die’. Could she kill JD? He wasn’t really a bad person, even if he might be trying to stop her.

_He wants to take Veronica away._

Heather felt sweat bead up on her forehead and her stomach felt sick. Power buzzed up and down her arms like hundreds of ants, but she held onto it rather than release it into her spell. It was making her dizzy, almost faint, but still she held it.

She knew she had to be sure of this decision. _If you kill him, there’s no going back._

“Let him sleep, unable to awaken.” Heather released the power into the cigarettes and the candle flared once before extinguishing itself without a wisp of smoke to prove it had ever been lit.

The next day, JD cornered her before she entered the cafeteria, where there was some kind of surprise assembly happening.

“Heather,” He said, catching her sleeve, “I just wanted to say, about yesterday—“

“It’s fine,” Heather said with a false, perky smile. “You’re trying to help. I understand.”

JD’s brows furrowed and he studied her face. “Okay… well, alright then.”

“Oh, you forgot these at my house, can you take them? If my mom found them she would kill me.” She held out the pack of cigarettes.

He took them. “Thanks.” JD walked away.

It was done.

Heather breathed a sigh of relief and entered the cafeteria, plunging headfirst into the madness that was Pauline Fleming’s assembly.

Veronica was already there, looking like a hung over nightmare. Heather tried to worm her way through the crowd so it would be Veronica’s hand she would hold, but Fleming got to her first, snatching her hand so it linked with Martha’s.

 _Shit_.

Heather forced a tight smile onto her face as the cameras passed by, but she snatched her hand away the second she could. Power began to buzz down her neck and through her hands, circling around.

 _Veronica, I need to talk to you._ She wished she had some way to send a silent signal to Veronica, but nothing came to mind. Heather was starting to feel sweaty and ill. She wanted to get out of here.

The crowd pressed around her, and Heather tried to push through it to get to the doors, which Veronica had just walked through. Was she looking for JD? Or could she be looking for Heather?

Martha, however, didn’t notice. “Heather, I just wanted to say… I know you and Ram were… kind of in the same crowd, so well… I’m sorry, I guess. And, if you want to talk—“

She had to get away from all this. There was one fast way to do it. She tossed her hair and squared her shoulders. Every bit the bitch Heather Chandler had been. “Ram and I weren’t friends. He was a shithead and he got what he deserved. And we’re not friends either, Martha.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Heather knew she had been too harsh, but it had been effective. Martha fled the cafeteria, and everyone dodged out of her way as though that level of unpopularity was contagious.

Heather walked in the space Martha had created and left the cafeteria behind her.

It crossed her mind that she could follow Martha, that she could apologize for those unkind words and all the other’s she’d said over the years, but what would have been the point of that? Befriending Martha wouldn’t do her any good. It would just give people like Heather and Courtney ammunition against her should they decide they wanted to be in charge.

No. Heather was in charge now, and no one could take that from her.

_Bless me Alida with strength and beauty. Let them all bow to me._

And for the rest of the day, they did. Heather didn’t see Veronica again, which meant that Veronica had seen Fleming’s assembly and fled the premises—probably with JD—and Heather tried to pretend that didn’t bother her. It would have been far more fun to bask in the glow of her classmate’s admiration with Veronica, but Heather took comfort in the fact that she could tell Veronica all about it later.

Sitting in class, Heather imagined sprawling out on Veronica’s bed, her head in her girlfriend’s lap while they listened to Hot Probs and chatted.

_Veronica, you wouldn’t believe how much Courtney was kissing my ass. ‘Heather, I love your jacket, where did you get it? Oh, Heather, what you said in class was so smart!” I felt like royalty, Veronica. You should have been there._

And Veronica would laugh at Heather’s high pitched impression of Courtney’s voice, and say something witty, biting and sarcastic.

The thought brought a smile to her face, and carried Heather through the rest of the school day.

Because her parents were home because of the funerals, Heather had to stop in and say hello before she could go to Veronica’s house. She didn’t want to— she hated to delay making her daydream a reality anymore than she already had—but rules were rules.

Her mother yanked her into a tight hug the second Heather stepped into the kitchen. “Oh, Heather, darling, thank God you’re alright.”

“What the—“ Heather narrowly stopped herself from saying ‘Hell’. Her parents hated that kind of language. “What’s wrong?”

Mrs. Duke sniffed dramatically. “Oh you poor dear, you haven’t heard yet.” She swiped at a tear Heather couldn’t see and dabbed her nose with a pristine handkerchief. “It’s your friend Martha, she… well she tried to… she… Martha walked into traffic. God have mercy, they’re saying she tried to kill herself.”

The world fell out from under Heather.

Martha? She had…

“Is she… did she…” She wasn’t sure how to ask if Martha had been successful.

“She broke her leg badly, and she has a slight concussion, but her mother says she got very lucky. I know you’re shocked dear, this has been a very trying time for you—“

“I have to go,” Heather said, ignoring her mother.

“What? Sweetheart, no, you need to stay here and talk.”

“No, I need to… I need to visit her. Martha was my friend.” Heather had no intention of doing any such thing, but she had to get out of the house, and she believed this was the only excuse her mother would allow.

Mrs. Duke’s eyes softened. “Oh, dear, yes I’m sure you do. I can give you a ride—“

“No, thanks mom. I want to walk. I need to clear my head.” Heather fled out the door, running most of the way to Veronica’s house, until her lungs and legs hurt too bad for her to continue.

She walked the rest of the way, trying to calm her breathing. _Alida give me strength. Alida… what have I done?_

The goddess was silent.

Though technically she knew she should knock, the thought didn’t cross her mind and Heather barged into the Sawyer’s home without bothering.

She found all three of them in the living room, with a sullen-looking Veronica standing in the center of it all.

Veronica locked eyes with her. “Heather… you heard?”

“Yeah,” Heather said, trying to school her face into something neutral.

Veronica crossed the room and hugged Heather. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m just… I don’t even know what to think. It’s so weird. ”

That surprised Heather a little bit. “I mean, I think someone at the school should have been able to see this coming. It’s tragic, but looking back there were warning signs,” She said carefully. Martha was practically the poster child for teenaged suicidal behavior, why was Veronica looking so shocked?

That narrative settled nicely into Heather’s head. There had been warning signs. Someone should have seen. This had been coming for a long time. It wasn’t Heather’s fault.

Martha had just happened to walk into traffic hours after Heather had been cruel to her. Of course.

Veronica’s face folded in confusion. “Warning signs? For a seizure?”

“A seizure?” Heather asked, matching Veronica’s confusion. “Who had a seizure?”

“JD.” Veronica looked shocked. “What were you talking about?”

“Martha Dump truck. She… never mind. What happened to JD?”

But of course Heather knew what Veronica was about to say. In all the confusion of the day, she’d forgotten about her plan, but now it rushed back to her.

“The doctors said he had some kind of seizure and now he’s in a coma and won’t wake up. I don’t…” Veronica stopped and glanced at her parents, and Heather knew she wanted to talk about the gods.

Heather hugged Veronica again, feeling sick that she was feigning sympathy when Veronica’s pain was her fault.

 _You knew that would happen,_ Heather reminded herself. _You knew this was the only way. And at least he’s not dead._

Not that Heather knew how to wake him up. Strangely, that was the first time that question had even occurred to her. And what would she do if she did find out how to wake him up?

“We should go upstairs,” Heather said. “You look like you need to rest.”

Veronica nodded and walked with Heather to her room. Her parents watched them go.

“I don’t even know what to think,” Veronica said. “He was fine yesterday, but then today he just… fell over. I freaked out and called nine-one-one but maybe if I’d used magic…” She sighed and Heather patted her back gently. “When we were finally alone at the hospital I called on Notia and Voni, begging them to help me, but nothing worked.”

“I’m sorry, Veronica,” Heather said, and she genuinely meant it, though Veronica didn’t know why she was really apologizing.

“Could you… maybe tomorrow we can go back to the hospital and try together?”

Heather froze. What could she say? “Maybe… He was telling me about how dangerous magic could be. Maybe he used too much?”

Veronica shook her head and looked down at her lap. “He wouldn’t do that. He was too smart, and too careful.”

Reaching up, Heather pushed Veronica’s hair out of her face. “It’s going to be okay.” She kissed her, carefully not promising that she would help Veronica tomorrow.

Veronica sank into it, and Heather felt her muscles relax as she sighed and rested her head on Heather’s shoulder. “I don’t know when this all got so confusing.”

Heather kissed her again. “Let’s just relax for tonight. Things have been so crazy.”

Nodding, Veronica curled next to Heather, wrapping her arms around her waist. “That sounds nice. Can we listen to Hot Probs and pretend everything is normal?”

Without thinking about it, Heather used her powers to turn the radio on and the familiar sound of the DJ’s voice filled Veronica’s room.

He closed out the last call, with someone who sounded certifiably insane, but in an entertaining way. When he started the next call, Heather recognized the voice almost immediately.

“It’s Heather. No, wait! It’s… Madonna. Um, no… it’s Tweety.”

Veronica looked at Heather, who was staring at the radio in shock. “But that’s Heather! She knows we listen to this show.”

Heather still couldn’t look away from the radio as Heather started talking about her problems, in her usual bored, confused tone. “God had cursed me I think. The last guy I had sex with killed himself the next day. I'm failing math. My whole life is a mess. I was supposed to be captain of the cheerleading team, but I probably because I miss practice when my Dad visits. My parents are divorced and stuff and...”

“Shut it off,” Veronica said, “I can’t stand it.”

“Oh my god.” Heather couldn’t hold back a delighted laugh. It was too easy. Heather had practically thrown Heather’s revenge right into her lap. “We’ll crucify her.”

Noticeably less delighted, Veronica looked up at her, confused. “What?”

“Heather! Listen to this! I mean, think about all the shit she’s said about us, or the shit Heather said that she agreed with, here’s our chance to get back at her.”

Veronica’s face fell. “Haven’t we done enough?”

“No,” Heather said automatically. “Hell, no! Obviously Heather needs to be taken down a notch. I can’t believe she expects us to feel bad for her after everything she’s done. And Courtney! She helped spread that rumor about you and—“ She couldn’t quite bring herself to say their names.

“It sounds like she feels bad,” Veronica pointed out.

“Only for herself.” Heather McNamara had only ever felt bad for herself, of that Heather was absolutely certain.

Veronica stood up. “You should go.”

Heather reached out and tried to grab Veronica’s hand. “What?”

“It’s late and I’m tired. You should go home.”

“I… I kind of thought I would stay over,” Heather murmured, feeling bad that she’d assumed, but confused that Veronica was throwing her out.

“I’m tired,” Veronica said again.

“What is this about?” Heather pleaded.

“Nothing.”

“But…”

“Did you do something to JD?” Veronica had finally turned to face Heather and met her eyes, but Heather almost wished she hadn’t.

Veronica’s eyes were almost pitch black.

Power roared in Heather’s ears, responding instinctively to the power she could see in Veronica’s eyes.

“Veronica…” Heather whispered. She needed to channel her power, but there was nowhere for it to go. Her heart was pounding so fast it hurt, but Heather clung to her power keeping it inside.

“Did you, Heather? Was he part of your attempt to get back at everyone? Or was he trying to stop you?” If Veronica was suffering as much as Heather was, there was no way to tell; her voice was steady and her gaze was level, even if it was still far too dark.

“I…” Heather didn’t want to lie to Veronica, and a part of her, some part that was better connected to the power the seemed to be trying to burn her heart out of her chest, told her that Veronica would spot the lie.

Heather ran, pounding down the stairs and fleeing into the night. The power faded to a dull, aching throb as she got closer to her house. When she could finally throw herself into her bed, Heather felt like she’d died and been resuscitated a hundred times.

Her parents were already asleep, but she thought about waking them up. “My heart hurts,” She whispered into the empty air.

The pain kept her where she was, and she writhed on the bed, trying to get comfortable, trying to relieve the pain in some way.

Maybe she fainted, or maybe her exhaustion was great enough to overcome the pain, but she fell asleep not long after.

She dreamt she was in the center of a dark forest clearing. Figures stood, shadowed among the trees, circling her.

She was on trial. Figures surrounded her; JD, Martha Dunnstock, Heather Chandler, Kurt, Ram, and each stepped forward to testify before a council of judges.

Each judge was eerie and familiar: the one with skin so dark it reflected starlight, who had Veronica’s voice and secrets in her eyes, the one who couldn’t seem to settle on an appearance, looking bight and beautiful and handsome all at once, another that wore white and stood off to the side, watching and wishing.

In sleep, she didn’t need to identify them; she knew them already. Notia. Voni. Yarwis.

Beckoning from behind her came another voice. “Heather…” Just her name, soft and tempting lilting over the clearing and cutting through the noises and accusations from the others.

Heather knew it was Alida, but she couldn’t get to her.

Heather stood in front of her, her mouth stained blue and her cheeks hollow and icy pale. “Why?”

JD took Heather’s place. “Why?”

Then Martha stepped forward, wincing in pain on broken legs. “Why?”

Heather didn’t wait for Kurt and Ram to take their turn. “Stop!”

“Why, Heather?” JD asked again.

“Why?”

“Why?”

“STOP!” Heather’s heart was pounding again and she wanted to wake up. “I had to,” She insisted. “I had to!”

She woke up, aching and sweating, the words “I had to” were still on her lips.

Heather dressed in black and red, buttoning her shirt with trembling fingers. Sickness curdled her stomach, and she skipped breakfast. Ignoring her mother’s offer of a ride, Heather walked to school, feeling oddly feverish.

 _This will kill you, Heather._ JD’s voice hummed in her ear as she opened her locker and Heather swatted at the air around her head.

“Leave me alone,” She murmured.

_I need to get rid of the magic. I need to use the power._

Heather turned to Courtney, who was hovering at the locker next to Heather’s. “Did you listen to Hot Probs last night?”

Courtney nodded, so Heather went on, speaking felt good, and Heather added just a little magical weight to her words. _Alida, let them believe me, let them carry my words and share them with each other._

“Poor little Heather called in because she thinks she’s cursed,” Heather said, badly imitating Heather McNamara’s voice. Some of the power escaped with the words and Heather felt the fist around her lungs loosen a little.

Courtney got the joke. “That was Heather! Oh my god, I have to tell the others.”

“You do that,” Heather said with a smile.

 _This is cruel,_ She told herself, without much conviction.

_This is killing you._

_Only because I’m not done yet,_ Heather told herself, dismissing the dark reminder of JD’s words. Once she was done and everyone who’d hurt her and Veronica had paid for it, the pain would stop and everything would be okay.

“Veronica!” Heather said, waving at her and beginning to bounce towards her through the crowded hallway.

They locked eyes for a second, but Veronica turned and ducked away, disappearing into the crowd. Her heart stuttered, and Heather balked. Veronica was still mad?

By the time Heather had gotten to math class—the only one she shared with Veronica and Heather—rumors about Heather’s breakdown on air had spread across the junior class.

Someone had even written “Poor Little Heather” on the chalkboard, and the whole class was snickering behind their hands about it. Heather watched Heather.

Her face was frozen, staring straight ahead as if she couldn’t hear what was happening behind her.

Behind her, Heather could hear Veronica scrawling furiously in her diary. Was she cleansing? Heather wanted to look back and see, but she refrained. Soon all this would be over and she could apologize to Veronica.

Soon, everything would be fine.

Mr. Hayes walked into the classroom, wearing his usual khakis and a baffled expression that seemed permanently fixed onto his face. Heather wished she could turn around and make a joke about it to Veronica, but she stopped herself.

Soon.

Before Hayes had a chance to start attempting to explain calculus to them, Heather stood up and ran from the classroom.

Heather watched her go apathetically. She wondered why it didn’t feel better that for the first time ever, it was Heather McNamara that was fleeing class in tears, rather than Heather Duke.

“Where is Heather going?” Hayes asked, long after the door had closed behind her.

Heather smiled, feigning triumph she didn’t feel. “She’s going to cry.”

With that, Veronica stood up and stormed off, closing the door decisively behind him.

“Now where is she going?”

This time, Heather had no answer for him.

She tried to focus on the equations on the board. She tried to pretend that everything was fine, but whatever ease she’d gotten from using her powers that morning was wearing off and the pain was setting in again.

Her heart started to beat too fast, so fast it hurt.

 _My heart is going to stop beating,_ Heather thought with sudden alarm. _I’m going to die, right here in this classroom._

That horrifying thought got her to her feet, even as her breath started coming in short gasps and she couldn’t feel her hands or toes.

“Heather?” Mr. Hayes asked, looking away from his lesson.

“Sick,” Heather hissed. She attempted further explanation, but it died in her throat without air to support it.

She ran to the nearest bathroom, barely making it in time.

Veronica and Heather were in there already, and Veronica had her arm around Heather’s shoulders, comforting her as she cried.

The sight of Heather getting the comfort Heather wanted so much brought another surge of power.

_Alida, help me. Please…_

But Heather didn’t even know what help would look like anymore.

It was all becoming too much. Her vision swirled, and the power started to seep out of her hands, directed at Heather, who started to choke and gag like she’d swallowed something foul.

“Heather, stop!” Veronica shouted, pounding on Heather’s back while glaring at Heather.

Once she had started, though, Heather couldn’t stop. She wasn’t even positive she wanted to, because it felt so much better to let it out.

Heather was sweating and shaking, still coughing too hard to catch her breath. Veronica was holding her and muttering something Heather couldn’t hear, probably some kind of healing spell.

But Heather knew nothing Veronica did would work unless she stopped the magic that was still pouring out of her.

_Take it back, Alida, please._

Where she should have felt the welcoming embrace of her goddess, Heather only felt cold silence. She was freezing to death in that silence.

When she tasted blood, Heather managed to rein some of the power in; just enough to lift her hand and touch her face.

Blood was flowing from her nose and into her mouth, the metallic taste lingering even after she’d wiped it away.

Her dream rushed back to her, the accusations of everyone she’d hurt and killed flooding in her ears.

Veronica stood up, her eyes blazing. “I’m sorry Heather. I have to do this.” She closed her eyes, and Heather felt her summon her power, she could smell the cool fog of night air.

Heather went blind.

For a second, she panicked, groping around and searching for something to orient herself. Her hip crashed into the sink, bringing her to her knees with a fresh wave of burning pain.

She had enough power now to bring the whole school crumbling down around them. Heather didn’t know how she knew that, but instinctively, a part of her knew that if she wanted to, she could finally have revenge on everyone in this disgusting town full of horrible people.

The stall doors shook around them, and Heather’s vision cleared as one flew open, falling off its hinges and hitting Veronica on the shoulder.

She fell, clutching her arm and cowering in front of Heather’s body.

Heather had no idea if Heather was dead or alive, and a twisted, horrifying part of her didn’t care.

“Heather stop!” Veronica said again, holding out one hand.

Heather matched her pose, ready. She could end this now. Veronica was strong, and she knew how to wield Notia’s power, but Notia wasn’t a killer, and she was dangerous in a different way. Alida could destroy her.

But Heather couldn’t.

_This will kill you._

_Then let it._

She turned the power inward.

It felt like her intestines were melting and she clawed at her stomach as though she could get rid of them that way.

“Help me,” She whispered, though she knew there was nothing anyone could do.

She understood now, that no mortal could withstand the power of a god, and no mortal should want to.

“Heather,” Veronica whispered, her face beautiful and miserable. “I don’t know how.”

Veronica moved towards Heather, gripping her hand and holding it against her face. “Hold on, Heather. It’ll be okay.”

 _“_ I’m sorry,” Heather choked out through the pain. Tears slipped down her face.

“I know,” Veronica said. “Notia, please.”

Heather squeezed her hand. There were no more words— the burning, blinding, and aching had become too much for that— but she wanted to tell Veronica that there was nothing her goddess could do.

It was all too much. Heather’s vision went dark.

“Please. I can’t lose you too.”

Heather forced her eyes open. _Help me,_ she thought at whatever god might be listening. _For Veronica, please_. She reached out, groping blindly for something. Her fingers closed over Veronica’s book of the gods, lying on the bathroom floor.

When she pulled it towards her, the book fell open to a beautiful drawing of a woman standing in a clearing.

 _Yarwis,_ Heather thought, and just the name soothed some of the ache in Heather’s body. “Yarwis?” She croaked tentatively, barely daring to hope the pain might ease a little more.

Veronica’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Heather, call on Yarwis. She can… she could—“ Veronica stopped, and Heather knew that she didn’t know what Yarwis could or might do, but she was hopeful.

Heather had no energy left for hope. Her vision was going dark and all she wanted was to lay on the cold tile floor and rest at last.

 _I want it to stop,_ She thought. Veronica’s eyes told her that she had to keep going, and Heather wanted to, if only so that Veronica wouldn’t be sad, but everything hurt and she was so tired.

 _Then let go of it,_ A smooth, warm voice whispered. _Let go of all of it._

Letting go of everything meant letting go of her anger, which had protected her from her pain. Could she do that?

_You have to._

The voice was right. Heather knew that her options now were very limited, and the wrong choice would be her last choice.

She locked eyes with Veronica. “I love you.”

Then she let go.

Her body sagged, the power leached out of her into the cold floor, seeking the earth below.

Yarwis, the goddess of earth, was pulling power away from her. Distantly, Heather was aware of it dissipating across all that space.

Heather had been too small to hold it, but the earth was huge, and compared to that, Heather’s little power, charged with anger, was worth nothing.

_Powerless again._

With that silly, comforting thought, Heather finally slept.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this! I hope you all liked my addition to the Heathers Fall Fanfic Challenge. If so, let me know because I might do another challenge in a couple months! Enjoy!

Heather Duke was floating in the dark.

And then she woke up.

Her mouth tasted like chalk, and the stiffness in her muscles told her she’d been unconscious for a long time. She rolled over, and came face to face with someone familiar.

Shame rushed through her and stained her face red. “Martha…”

Martha turned away, saying nothing.

Hoarsely, Heather whispered, “I’m sorry, Martha.”

Silence.

“I know I messed up. I ruined everything. There were a million things I should have done differently, Martha, and one of them is never losing you as a friend—“

“You didn’t lose me,” Martha snapped.

It happened so fast Heather wasn’t even sure she’d heard it. “What?”

“I said, you didn’t lose me. I was right there the whole time.”

Heather looked away again. “You’re right. I should have been better. I should have been braver.”

Martha rolled her eyes and turned her back to Heather again. “No shit.”

It was clear that the conversation was closed.

A heavy silence reined in the hospital room. Heather tried to piece together what had happened to her.

She remembered the bathroom, and she remembered that Alida’s power had almost consumed her. Everything else was foggy. Why did she remember feeling peaceful? Why did waking up in the hospital feel like waking up on the first day of summer, well rested for the first time in weeks?

“Martha, what happened to me?”

Huffing slightly, Martha rolled over. “You don’t remember?”

“No. I was… I think I was in the bathroom, but I don’t remember what happened.”

There was a pause, and Heather watched expressions play over Martha’s face, waiting for her to decide if she would continue giving Heather the cold shoulder. Finally, she said, “The doctors aren’t sure.”

Heather remembered, suddenly, the fact that Martha couldn’t resist telling a good story, and she smiled at Martha’s undisguised glee at having a chance to share this one.

“You ran out of class and went to the bathroom. Veronica was already there because Heather number two was sick or something. Then you had some kind of fit and passed out.”

She had to bite back a grumble about the fact that even with Heather Chandler dead, she was still Heather number three.

Martha’s dramatic pause was over. “They brought you here because they thought you’d had some kind of aneurysm, but now they can’t find anything wrong with you.”

“So I’m fine?” Heather asked, barely daring to hope it could be true.

“Maybe,” Martha shrugged. “There might still be something up with your heart. I heard one of the doctors talking about running more tests.” Martha’s eyes looked at her rather harshly. “And you’re malnourished.”

“Right,” Heather said. “That.” There was always another shoe.

“You were starving yourself,” Martha accused.

“No! I ate.” That was technically true, though it didn’t look like Martha believed her. “I just didn’t… Never mind.”

“Whatever,” Martha said. Story time was over.

Suddenly exhausted, Heather let her eyes drift shut and attempted to sleep. Before she did, she whispered, “Martha, I’m sorry.”

This time, Martha didn’t say anything.

When she woke up, the sun was setting, and there were doctors in her room. “Ah! She awakens!”

Glaring at the too enthusiastic man in her room, Heather fought the urge to roll her eyes.

His smile didn’t falter. “How are you feeling?”

Heather thought about it for a moment, carefully taking stock of every part of her body, shocked that there was no pain. How long had the burning ache of magic been building inside her, killing her, that its absence was so shocking? “I feel good.”

“That’s good to hear. I did some blood work and I’d like to prescribe a more comprehensive diet. I understand high school cafeterias are bad, but you were lacking in several essential vitamins, and that worries me.”

That wasn’t a surprise. “Anything else?”

He checked her heart rate, and for the first time since he’d entered the room his smile faltered. “No gym class for the foreseeable future. You’re heart isn’t as strong as it should be in someone your age; I don’t know if that has something to do with your episode, but I want to keep an eye on it.”

Gym class was no great loss for Heather; she’d never liked it anyway.

“What do you like doing?” He asked and though his tone was friendly, Heather suspected he had an ulterior motive for asking.

“I love to read,” She answered. _And do magic._ She didn’t tell the doctor that.

He beamed. “That’s good to hear. You’ll still be able to do that. Do you play any sports?”

Heather shook her head. “My friends and I like to play croquet?”

That made him laugh. “I think you’ll still be able to do that, but until I have more answers, avoid running and strenuous physical activity.”

When he started to list the changes he wanted to make to her diet, Heather checked out. She would read it on the she he handed her later. _I’ll follow it,_ She vowed, and for the first time since waking up in the hospital, she felt a small thrill of magic.

At first, she panicked. The power was supposed to be gone. Was she still in danger? On closer examination, she realized that this felt different from Alida’s magic. It felt like what she had wanted when she’d first started out playing around with witchcraft.

Yarwis.

Tears stung Heather’s eyes. She had thought she would be powerless for the rest of her life, but Yarwis was offering her a second chance.

_Thank you._

The power hummed again, gentle and comforting, as if to say “You’re welcome. Don’t waste it.”

“How does that sound?” The doctor asked, distracting Heather from her examination of her new power.

She smiled. “That sounds great, Doc.”

Surprised, the doctor tilted his head, searching her face for the reason behind her sudden enthusiasm. Heather was sure there was no way he’d be able to guess. “Well then, I’m Doctor Fletcher, let me know if you need anything.”

She nodded, ready to let him go so she could think, and try to understand her new power. Her stomach turned briefly at the idea of using it, but she steeled herself. She had work to do if she was going to try to deserve this second chance, and Martha was only part of it.

“Wait!”

Doctor Fletcher had nearly made it to the door, but he stopped and turned back to Heather. “Yes?”

“Are you treating a boy named Jason Dean?” Her heart started to beat a little faster and she had to force herself to calm down and breathe.

A shadow passed over Fletcher’s face. “Yes.”

“Can I talk to him?”

Fletcher dropped his head; all his energy seemed drained out of him. “He’s still comatose, I’m afraid.”

It would have made an easy excuse not to go, but Heather swallowed hard and spoke anyway. “Can I still see him? He was… my friend.”

_He tried to save my life and I didn’t let him._

“Do you feel well enough to stand? Maybe you should eat—”

“I’ll eat once I’ve seen him,” Heather said firmly. She even intended to keep her promise.

Resigned, Fletcher gestured for her to follow him. Heather grabbed her bathrobe—presumably dropped off by her parents—that was hanging on the door and followed him out.

The walk was oddly exhausting, and despite all her rest, her legs felt like she’d run a marathon just moments before. Still, she tried to keep her panting to a minimum so no one would demand she return to her room.

“Here he is. Don’t stay too long.” He showed her a button to press when she wanted someone to bring her back to her room, and left her alone with JD.

He looked dead.

Guilt stabbed at Heather. This was her fault. He looked so young and so weak compared to the boy she’d known. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.

Instead, she steadied herself and stepped forward so she could take his hand. “Yarwis, every winter, your earth freezes and sleeps. Every spring, your breath brings back what was lost, stronger and better than before. Bring him back, Yarwis. Help me fix what I’ve broken, please.”

Heather waited. Had she said the wrong words? Perhaps she’d been wrong about why Yarwis had given her a second chance.

She renewed her focus. _Please, Yarwis. He tried to help me; he shouldn’t die for that._ Squeezing his hand, Heather started to feel power—a steady thrum in her veins—that coursed through her and into JD.

A moment later, he opened his eyes. “You’re alive,” He croaked, and to Heather’s absolute shock, JD smiled.

“You don’t… hate me?”

He shrugged and reached for a glass of water next to his bed, which Heather handed to him, still slightly shocked. “I don’t hate you. You made some mistakes, that’s all. Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Heather promised. “Still, I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

“It’s not that bad, I mean, nobody died, right?”

“Three people are dead,” Heather reminded him.

JD paused awkwardly. “Well… they weren’t very nice people?”

Despite everything, that absurd, dark little joke made Heather laugh.

“I should call the nurse,” Heather said, “You’ve been in a coma for a few days. If it makes you feel any better, I was in a coma for a couple days too.”

“I think we both needed the sleep. What do they think happened to me?”

“Some kind of seizure.”

JD nodded. “I can work with that. What about you?”

Heather blushed and looked away. “A heart condition caused by… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Starving yourself?” JD asked, surprising her with his bluntness.

“No! I didn’t— don’t— starve myself. It’s different.”

“Whatever you say, Heather. So, out of somewhat morbid curiosity, how did you get out of it? I can’t imagine Alida just let you go.” Heather could see through his feigned casualness to the dark turn his thoughts had taken.

“Yarwis,” Heather answered simply. “I don’t know why she did it, but she… took the power out of me and gave it back to the earth.”

He looked away, playing with a loose thread on his ugly hospital blanket. “My mom never would have tried that. She was too tied to Orena.”

“I’m new at all this,” Heather reminded him. “Do you think I’m in danger, I mean, will Alida want revenge?”

“That is kind of her thing,” JD noted, “But I’m sure we can find a way to appease her.”

Just the word ‘we’ brought Heather more comfort than she’d felt since putting him under. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t poison me again, please.”

“I won’t.” Heather smiled. “Should I replace the cigarettes I ruined?”

“Strangely enough, I don’t feel like smoking.”

Heather’s lips twisted as she fought to keep her face serious. “Well then I guess by trying to kill you I saved your life. You should thank me.”

“We’re not there yet,” JD said, and Heather blanched before his face split into a smile.

He sighed, and they were serious for a long moment. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Heather shrugged. “I’m going to make right what I can make right, and do the best I can with the rest.”

“Veronica—“

“Probably hates me,” Heather said, “But she stayed with me when she thought I was dying, so… I don’t know, maybe she doesn’t?”

“She doesn’t hate you, Heather.” His tone was so firm and exasperatedly sarcastic that Heather almost let herself believe him. “You scared her.”

“So… what do I do?”

“Why on earth do you think I would be able to answer that?”

There was a weighted pause while Heather debated whether to laugh or cry. She settled on a gasping combination of both.

“I need to prove that I’m not going to go nuts again, don’t I?”

He shrugged. “Sounds like a start.”

A nurse wandered in after that, and was so surprised to see JD awake—the staff had apparently given him up for dead—that she screamed, which had led to such a fuss Heather had quietly slipped out of the room and returned to her own, where Martha was staring out the window.

“JD is awake,” Heather said. “Did you know him?”

“I knew of him.” Martha didn’t look at her.

Heather swallowed. “Well, he’s okay, now that he’s awake.”

“Just like that? He’s comatose for a few days and then he wakes up and everything is fine? I bet the doctors have no idea what’s wrong with him.”

“Not no idea…”

Martha rolled her eyes dramatically enough that Heather could see it from across the room. “Maybe trying to kill myself gave me some clarity Heather, but I think that’s a little weird.”

“It is weird.”

“Do you remember when we were kids and we used to pretend to be witches?” Martha’s voice had gone soft and sad. “You always wanted to curse people.”

Heather hadn’t remembered that, though she had no difficulty believing it. “I think I’m over that phase.”

“Are you, Heather?” Martha asked, finally turning to face her. “Are you really?”

Reaching over the small table that sat between their beds, Heather plucked a slightly wilted flower from the vase on Martha’s side. “I’m trying to be.” She pushed some magic into the flower, willing it back to health.

“Listen, Martha, I know this won’t fix everything—I know I can’t fix everything—but… I probably can’t to go to prom with the person I want to, so… if you don’t have plans, maybe we could go see a movie? Or make popcorn and watch something at my house?” She held the flower out to Martha, now full and beautiful.

Martha took it from her, considering it, and the proposal that had come with it. “I’d like that.”

“I think all my friends hate me now,” Heather warned her, “So I understand if you… well, if you don’t really want to.”

A small smile started across Martha’s face. “If your friends really do hate you, you can sit with me at lunch.”

The thought of Martha’s completely unselfish offer bolstered Heather as she entered the school two days later. Her parents had offered to let her stay out longer, but she knew she couldn’t put this off forever.

It was time to face Veronica.

And the rest of the school, but they hardly seemed to matter compared to Veronica.

They locked eyes across the hall, and though Heather longed to look away—staring at Veronica was like looking into the sun—she held her gaze steady.

Veronica’s eyes went wide, then the snapped away from Heather and she turned and disappeared down the hall.

Heather closed her eyes, fighting tears. She walked slowly towards Veronica’s locker, stepping to the tune of her own funeral march. Pressing her hand against the cool metal, Heather summoned some of her power. _Help me leave a message, Yarwis._

She felt the power working, twining through the ground below them and up into the locker.

Taking a deep breath, Heather stepped away. She would just have to wait and see.

Two classes dragged by as time and Heather’s heart ticked on. When the bell rang ending second period, Heather leapt from her seat and dashed out the room, ignoring the teacher calling after her that the bell didn’t dismiss her.

Stopping short before she got to Veronica’s locker, Heather hid herself around a corner, peering over to look at the space where Veronica would soon be.

_Please let this work. Please understand._

The next two minutes passed slower than hours as Heather watched for Veronica, waiting to see a hint of her dark hair or the corner of the black jacket she’d been wearing.

Finally, Veronica approached the locker, and Heather was surprised and pleased to see that she was alone. She’d been expecting Heather and maybe Betty Finn to be hovering around her.

Heather had to force herself to breathe, as holding her breath was on Doctor Fletcher’s list of things that might cause a heart attack. Two breaths in and out as Veronica spun the dial on her lock. One breath while she lifted the latch. A short, hitched breath as she pulled the door open.

From her vantage point, Heather could barely see the tiny white flowers that had grown in a cluster inside Veronica’s locker, but she could see Veronica’s reaction as she reached out and touched them.

Though she was too far to smell them, Heather could remember the way the scent had hovered between her and Veronica when they’d first kissed, and knew that a small bush of these same flowers had grown in Heather’s back yard where they’d been standing.

Would Veronica know what they meant? Would she recognize them?

Veronica slammed her locker closed, and Heather jumped in surprise. Other students noticed her reaction and snickered. Fighting a hot blush, Heather thought about fleeing the scene, the school, the state, but she stood her ground, waiting to see what Veronica would do.

Looking up, Veronica locked eyes with Heather and nodded once, her face blank. With no further acknowledgement, she walked away down the hall.

Heather knew she would go to the clearing at lunch, knew that they would have to talk there.

Until then, she had to wait.

She had third period with Martha, something she had noticed earlier in the year with distaste, but for which she was now grateful. She hadn’t spoken to anyone since arriving at school and her own silence was killing her.

Trying to act as though nothing was unusual, Heather dropped her things and settled into the desk next to Martha’s scooter, which had been awkwardly parked next to a vacant desk. “Hi, Martha.”

Martha jumped like someone had poked her with a needle—something Heather knew had happened to her in the past—and looked at Heather like she’d gone insane. “Hello?”

“Did you do the reading for today? I’m a little behind still.”

“Me too,” Martha said. “I didn’t do homework in the hospital.”

Heather smiled. “That makes two of us; we’ll have to struggle together.”

The other students in the class were staring like Heather and Martha were putting on a play for their specific entertainment, but Heather ignored them. Had no one ever seen _anyone_ speaking to Martha in a way that wasn’t insulting?

Pulling a textbook out of the basket of her scooter, Martha propped it between them. “We… We can share, if you want?”

“I’d like that.”

After class, Heather walked in Martha’s wake, finding that everyone jumped out of the way of the suicidal girl with the broken leg and the motorized scooter. It cleared an easy path for her on her way to biology: the last class before lunch, and Heather’s only class with Heather.

Heather soon found that she needn’t have been worried about apologizing to Heather, because the other girl was sitting with Courtney and Jessie, both of whom went to Heather’s parents’ church. The three were gabbing with Heather like they were the best of friends, and they all studiously ignored Heather’s attempts to speak with them.

Class went by without Heather absorbing any information about the methods of animal taxonomy. When it was finally over, Heather attempted once more to talk to Heather.

With one quick, almost nervous glance at her, Heather dashed out of the classroom and Heather had to come to terms with the fact that Heather wasn’t speaking to her, and might never again.

Bumping into Martha in the hall, Heather said, “If I survive to be a senior, it’s going to be a long year.”

Martha chuckled. “It’s pretty obvious that something wants us to survive, maybe just to torture us more. Are you coming to lunch?” Martha chewed her lower lip, glancing at the floor.

“Do you mind if I meet you there? I have to talk to someone first.”

Martha nodded a bit more enthusiastically than Heather thought was necessary and set off down the hall towards the cafeteria.

It was time. Heather walked out of the school, past the parking lot, and into the clearing, where she knew Veronica would be waiting.

“Hello Veronica,” She whispered. “It’s good to see you.”

Veronica stood with her back to Heather, and she didn’t move when she spoke.

“Heather isn’t speaking to me,” Heather said, attempting a conversational tone that did little to hide her nerves.

For a moment, Heather thought Veronica would continue to ignore her, but then she spoke. “Me either. How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

A loaded, awkward pause settled between them. “I thought about visiting you but…”

“I didn’t expect you to!” That wasn’t a lie. Heather had expected Veronica to hate her, and the fact that she hadn’t come to the hospital wasn’t surprising at all.

“I needed some time,” Veronica continued. “You scared me, Heather.”

“I know.” She had scared herself.

Veronica turned to look at her, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Heather’s heart stopped then sped up. She had never seen Veronica cry, and had honestly thought until this moment that she couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

There were a million excuses, but none of them were good, so she kept them all locked inside.

“Thank you for the flowers, how did you…”

“Yarwis.” Heather answered simply. Her heart was still beating in uncomfortable disregulation, so she closed her eyes and reached into the earth, pulling on some of its ancient calm until she could feel the rapid beating become slow and comfortable.

Veronica smiled, and it was small and ironic but somehow hopeful. “I knew she would suit you.”

“I should have listened to you.”

“What now?” Veronica asked after another long pause.

Heather chewed her lip, almost embarrassed to admit her plan. “I think… I need to fix things. I need to make it so that no one feels the way I did, all that fear and anger, so that nothing like that will happen again.”

“Can I help?”

Looking up sharply, Heather gaped at Veronica. She wasn’t sure what response she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “You want to help?”

“Yes.” Veronica rubbed her shoulder absently, and Heather remembered where the stall door had hit her, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I played a part in all that. I may not have been the one to cast the spells that killed them, but I didn’t like anyone that died. Heather, Kurt, Ram… I’m not mourning any of them. They were a part of the problem, and you thought you could fix it that way. Hell, it almost worked.”

“If I hadn’t become as bad as all of them,” Heather muttered.

“Don’t say that!” Veronica seized Heather’s shoulders fiercely. “You had reasons—“

“They probably had reasons too.”

“You weren’t as bad as them,” Veronica repeated.

Heather didn’t agree with her—Heather’s scared and hurt eyes remained in the back of her mind—but it was comforting that Veronica didn’t think she’d become a cheap copy of Heather.

Veronica pulled her into a hug.

For a long moment, Heather froze. She hadn’t been expecting this. She’d walked into this clearing expecting hatred and revulsion, and now Veronica was hugging her. Forcing herself to react, Heather clung to Veronica, letting herself breathe.

For the first time since waking up, Heather felt more than just a conviction that she _had_ to fix things. She finally felt like she could.

“We should be getting back,” Heather said, reluctantly sliding out of Veronica’s arms. “I promised Martha I would eat lunch with her.”

“Martha… Dunnstock?” Veronica looked baffled.

“Yeah. Did you know she was my best friend growing up?” It felt odd, finally saying that. It was something she would have given her life to keep from having to admit to Heather only weeks ago, and now it seemed trivial.

Veronica tilted her head, smiling at Heather strangely. “I didn’t know that. I don’t know anything about Martha Dunnstock.”

“Do you want to?”

The walked back to the school together, their arms looped around each other’s waists, laughing when people looked at them, knowing everyone thought it was just the sort of thing friends did.

Three nights later, JD, Veronica, and Heather were standing in Veronica’s back yard in a circle.

“Are you ready?” JD asked his eyes serious but lit with excitement.

Veronica nodded. “Let’s do this.”

They started the spell, and Heather took her place between them, holding their hands and breathing deeply, soaking up the calm from the earth around her.

It was a spell of healing, cast over the whole school, balanced between three people, one of sun, one of moon, and one of earth. Maybe it would do nothing, or maybe it would change everything. Or maybe it would just be a start, which would be enough for now.

Heather Duke was finally grounded.


End file.
